


When Living Ain't Easy

by Rowaine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, Explicit Language, Humor, Multi, Out of Character, Parody, Romance, Sexual Content, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-06
Updated: 2007-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-30 12:04:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 84,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10162670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rowaine/pseuds/Rowaine
Summary: With so much death and destruction surrounding him, Harry's mood turns bleak. The only people who see the whole scope of his problems, and can possibly fix them, are the ones whose very lives would be forfeit if they are seen aiding the Boy-Who-Lived.





	1. Prologue thru Chapter Three

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

**Title:** When Living Ain't Easy

**Author:** Rowaine (rowained@yahoo.com)

**Rating:** NC-17

**Warnings:** A little hint of schmoop, a dash of angst, a touch of non-con, toss rigorously with lime. Add a side helping of mental anguish, garnished with some spicy child abuse. I've tried to stick with canon personalities, but I plan on bringing out the darker side of some traditionally "Light" characters. 

**Pairings:** Harry/Severus/Lucius eventually, plus others

**Setting:** For the sake of propriety *cough*, let's say it's Harry's 7th year, making him legal for the upcoming scenes.

**Spoilers:** Up through HBP, with a few alterations. In my world, Harry sees the 'look' exchanged between Snape and Dumbledore, and therefore doesn't scream murder. Snape remains at Hogwarts as DADA and Head of Slytherin, and Draco Malfoy is not on the run. Other changes will become evident in the first few chapters. *wink* Alright, make that a LOT of alterations. As in, kill most of the last two chapters of HBP and add a few scenes I wish had taken place (which may show up here as flashbacks). It's my story and I'll bastardize it if I wanna!

**Summary:** With so much death and destruction surrounding him, Harry's mood turns bleak. The only people who see the whole scope of his problems, and can possibly fix them, are the ones whose very lives would be forfeit if they are seen aiding the Boy-Who-Lived.

**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me except for the questionable plot. JKR and her legal eagles can pass out the credit wherever she wants it to go. Also, I rarely skim the line into songfics, but this one just wouldn't get out of my head - so, 'Hand Me Down' is by Matchbox20.

**Notes:** I'm almost embarrassed... forgot to post this story (still a WIP, but there's quite a bit of it) here on HPFandom. I'm going to post the first 30 chapters in 2-5 part chunks depending on size.

~ * ~

**Prologue : Just Our Little Corner of the World**

The long train ride home from Hogwarts was made in silence. None of the students had much to say after their beloved (if somewhat insane) Headmaster's funeral, silently consoling each other with hugs and compassionate expressions. Even the usually sneering Slytherin contingent stayed quiet for the duration of the trip. 

In the last compartment, a group of fifth and sixth year students watched as one of their own drew deep inside himself, closing off from his closest friends. Hermione Granger caught the youngest Weasley's eye, the two sharing a look of concern. There was little any of them could do to soothe the agony and guilt that visibly ate away at Harry's soul. By unspoken agreement, the Gryffindor girls would speak with their male counterparts and arrange for everyone to take a turn checking in on their unofficial leader. 

Harry Potter had once again been forced to witness someone he cared a great deal about being killed. And this time, he was even more torn up over it. Besides the obvious fact of having witnessed Albus Dumbledore's death, Harry refused to talk about the details surrounding the horrific event. 

Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and most of the DA circle knew that _something_ had happened to effect such a deep fugue. They just couldn't seem to get anyone to talk. According to Professor (now acting Headmistress) McGonagall, the perpetrator was apprehended and dealt an immediate sentence... but nothing was issued in public or print from the Ministry telling who did it. The facts all pointed to Harry -- not as the murderer, but as an eyewitness sworn to secrecy. Whatever the case, their friend needed his support group more than ever before. 

Ginny motioned toward her skirt pocket, while she still held Hermione's attention. That little indicator was sufficient for the brilliant young witch, an assurance that the previous evening's plans would be put into motion as soon as their trunks were deposited at home. It had been exhausting, but the last night's 2am meeting had certainly bore fruit. Between Ginny and Ron, Hermione, Luna Lovegood, Dean, Seamus and Terry, the inner clique of DA members drew together several workable solutions to keeping in touch over the summer. Now if they could only convince Harry to use them!

~ * ~

The object of their concern was far from oblivious. 

Britain's reluctant wizarding hero allowed himself a long-suffering mental sigh, followed it by a rude raspberry and an eyeroll, then conceded that he probably warranted his friends' worry. Harry knew he hadn't been acting his normal self, but who could blame him? Especially after the events of last year at the Ministry... 

It had taken long months for him to trust the elderly wizard again. And just when Harry and Dumbledore had finally regained a decent relationship, the barmy old man has to get himself killed. In the literal sense. From his vantage point on the Astronomy Tower floor, Harry watched in Stupified horror as his mentor ordered his own death. 

He hadn't wanted to believe it at first, ranting and raving about Snape's cold-blooded Killing Curse to his Head of House. McGonagall had serenely given him a Calming Potion and told him to **_think_**. Think about why it might be necessary. Think about the pain Dumbledore must've been suffering from the lingering effects of Slytherin's curse. Think about Draco Malfoy's reluctance to do the deed. Think about the pain he'd briefly glimpsed in Snape's eyes. Think.

And so he had, coming up with a number of impossible scenarios that made more sense than the actual event.

A soft snap of metal resounded throughout the compartment, drawing Harry from his introspection. He saw his closest friends exchanging glances, never once looking directly at him. This did not bode well for the Boy-Who-Lived. With the brilliant intellect of Hermione, Ron's strategic genius, Ginny's almost Slytherin cunning, and Luna's inexplicable way of seeing to the heart of any matter, Harry knew that he would soon be the target for some scheme. Probably to keep in contact over the summer months, his friends wanting to make sure he wasn't suicidal or something equally dramatic.

Beating them to the punchline, Harry raked the lot of them with a piercing green sweep of the room. He cleared his throat and briefly wished for a tall mug of icy pumpkin juice, then addressed the group. "Hey guys, you don't have to go to so much trouble. It's not like... last year, ok? There's just so much going on, under all these complicated layers, and no, I can't tell you. Gods, it'd be so much easier if I could, but I promised." 

Taking a deep breath to halt his rambling, he focussed moist eyes on his knees. "Think about it, 'specially you, 'Mione. Just find the who's and why's and how's. Do **not** talk it out around parents or siblings, and make sure you're in a secure room. But don't ask me anything, alright? No kidding, I'm fine, just... got to plan alot this summer." 

Harry drew his eyes back toward his friends, giving them a tiny smile. "Thanks for being supportive and, just, _here_. It means alot to me." In seconds, the Gryffindor Seeker found himself the center of a sniffling group hug. 

His friends reassured, Harry almost found himself feeling guilty for having told half-truths. Almost. With as little information as they had, he didn't figure they could come up with any conclusions that would take them near the actual facts. He prayed that their search would keep them occupied and off his back for the entire holidays, for Harry Potter had several hard decisions to make, and no one with whom he felt comfortable to talk them over. The latest developments went beyond what he was willing to inflict on his friends, however eager they may be to assist. No, Harry knew he was on his own. And something about that felt right.

~ * ~

Hundreds of miles in the opposite direction, in a run-down cottage near the Western coast of Scotland, two wizards stood facing each other. Their expressions gave nothing away, even as shock and suspicion ran rampant through their minds. From years of acquaintence, each knew the other's weaknesses and strengths, knew where to hit for best effect. If this meeting turned into a confrontation, neither side would emerge unscathed.

Deep black-brown eyes met silver as a smooth, cultured voice asked, "Lucius, may I inquire as to how you managed this latest escape from the tender mercies of Azkaban's guard?"

Pale lips parted to speak, but only the barest of sounds issued forth. The darker wizard conjured a glass of cool water and handed it to his bedraggled companion. Taking small sips, the Malfoy patriarch soothed his ragged vocal chords before again attempting to talk. He raised weary grey eyes to lock with those of his long-time friend, letting just enough magic flow from him to indicate his mental shields being lowered. A weak smirk was all he had energy to offer, as his fellow wizard's shock fairly thundered throughout the room.

"Believe it or not, I too am a guest here. Only a week before... the ceremony... I received a guest in my luxurious accomodations." Breaking off his monologue for a round of hacking coughs, Lucius leaned against a sheet-covered couch until the spasms passed. He took another few sips of water and began again. "He was very upfront, both with information and his own opinions -- more forthright than I've ever encountered from the old man -- and he explained in great detail what I was to accomplish and to whom I must go if ever I needed assistance. Hence my visit today."

"Dumbledore. Sent you. To me." Every syllable dripped with disbelief.

A slightly wider smirk graced Lucius' haunted features for a short time. "Yes, Severus. We have much to discuss before next term begins at Hogwarts."

~ * ~

**Chapter One : Within Falsehood Lies Comfort**

People believe what they wish to believe, hear only what they choose to hear, and see that which does not push them out of their comfortable little ideals. Harry knew this to be one of those Universal Truths, as he had long been forced to accept the apathy of his childhood neighbors and grammar school classmates. Such mental blindness worked out well for the magical community as a whole, but it also made sure that the occassional unexplained bruise was overlooked without investigation.

Even as he thought the formal-sounding words, Harry snorted at himself. 'Occassional' was hardly accurate, for starters. And each bruise, scrape, and scar could easily be explained by the heavy hand of Uncle Vernon. Over the course of Harry's lifetime, he could only remember brief periods of _not_ having to hide various signs of his obese relative's abuse. He didn't count his time at Hogwarts toward the overall tally -- if he wasn't within the same city, his uncle wasn't likely to bother finding him to punish Harry for whatever infraction he was supposedly guilty of.

Since his first year at the wizarding school, such episodes were becoming more severe in the first two weeks of summer break. This apparently allowed his body enough time to heal away the worst of the lot, a mixed blessing for sure. With a pattern of the past five years, Harry slid into the back seat of his uncle's car, his body prepared to relax into the 'dead man's limp' that kept the hardest blows from connecting with anything vital.

When the car pulled away from King's Cross Station without the customary 'welcome home' beating, Harry became rather puzzled. Of course, there could have been a visit from an Order member to have made his uncle leery of public shows of 'affection'.

When the car passed into the boundaries of Little Whinging, Surrey, and no heavy-fisted blows were aimed his way, Harry ventured into perplexion. Maybe Uncle Vernon was having a rough day?

When the car parked outside a strange house in a dingy neighborhood, all signs of confusion were replaced by alarm. Harry's sense of self-preservation kicked in just as the beefy man unbuckled his seat belt, turning to peer through squinting little eyes at the teen.

"This is where you get out, boy." Vernon Dursley gave his best sneer at his nephew before struggling out of the car to release the boot. While Harry remained stunned in the back seat, the older man took little care dragging out his school trunk and owl cage. "Well, what are you waiting for, you waste of space? Out with you!"

Throwing open the back door, Dursley wrenched his nephew's arm in an unforgiving grip. He seemed prepared to bodily tow the thin teen, allowing only a moment for Harry to regain his balance.

Of all the actions Harry might have anticipated from his uncle, this casual dismissal was far from the realm of ordinary. Still half frozen in shock, he could do little more than stumble alongside the mountain of overbearing Muggle as he was led up toward the front of the run-down house.

Some deep-seated instinct made his subconscious take careful note of every detail, even as his feet fumbled across uneven steps up the unfamiliar walk. A street sign, partially obscurred by overgrown trees, gave him no clues -- he had never been this far from the relative safety of the Dursleys' home.

It occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, they weren't _in_ Surrey. Harry felt somewhat ashamed of himself for not having paid attention to the drive from the station. He was so intent on waiting for the first strike that he honestly hadn't been watching for any danger outside his uncle's car.

An almost hysterical giggle threatened to escape his throat -- Mad-eye Moody would kill him for his lack of Constant Vigilance. For that matter, so would Snape.

Bad idea, thinking about the Potions Master while trying to concentrate. The teen lost a precious few seconds caught in his instant reaction to the irrascible Head of Slytherin's name. Even though he now understood the dark wizard's reasons for killing the Headmaster, Harry just couldn't bring himself to feel sympathy for Severus Snape.

A quick shake of his head brought the Gryffindor back to his current dilemma. Unkept yard in desperate need of a trim. Few scraggly trees lining the boundaries of the property, keeping only the least curious from seeing inside. Shuttered windows locked tight. It was a one-story house, only slightly more stable in appearance than the Burrow.

Once again, Harry cursed himself for letting his attention deviate -- and over the greasy git, at that. He had almost missed dusk settling. No signs of light shown through the windows, nor was the porch lit.

Glancing quickly around, Harry was surprised to see his school trunk and Hedwig's cage bobbing behind him. Without aid of his magic! A terrifying thought struck: Had Uncle Vernon been approached by Death Eaters? Was he being left by his relative with the very people who most wanted him dead?

"You'd better not pull any of that _funny_ stuff here, if you know what's good for you!" Clipping Harry on the back of the head, Vernon rapped on the door three times in quick succession. "These people have paid good money for you to work here this summer. And unless you want a world of pain, you won't be giving them any problems. They've assured me that they can keep you in line, but I don't want them coming back asking for a refund, understood?"

And as he always did in response to _that_ tone of voice, Harry ducked his head and meekly replied, "Yes Uncle Vernon."

Had he kept his head up, the teen would have seen grey eyes narrowing from the other side of the door.

~ * ~

Vernon kept his grip on the young wizard's arm, waiting for the door to open. He had no intention of losing the small fortune he'd been paid for his nephew's services. Nor would he want to return home with the troublesome brat in tow. Heaven only knew what Petunia would have to say about that.

When the door finally creaked open, it did so to complete darkness. No matter how hard he tried, the Muggle couldn't see any details of the interior. Frustrated, he gave Harry a quick shove inside and told him to stay put. Still grumbling, Vernon made his way back to the car and sped off, not noticing the floating luggage or his nephew's expression of abject horror.

~ * ~

**Chapter Two : Taking in Strays**

If his uncle had seen the look of sheer terror on Harry's face, he would certainly have enjoyed the memory for years to come.

Whereas a Muggle was blocked from seeing beyond the front door, Harry had no such obstacles. He tried to scramble back toward the porch but found the door already shut and locked tight behind him. Quickly digging into his pocket for his wand, he aimed it at the two silvery blond heads before him.

"Now, now, Mr. Potter. There is no need for such aggression," came the smooth-as-sin voice of Lucius Malfoy. "You arrived rather earlier than expected, otherwise we would have been joined by a third. Surely you would feel more secure in the presence of one of your teachers?"

The snickering form of his school nemesis stepped around his father. "Really Potter, is this any way to react to your personal saviors?"

Harry gaped at Draco Malfoy, disbelieving the almost civil tone of the Slytherin's voice. Darting glances between both pale wizards, the teen stammered, "But... how... why?!"

The younger Malfoy flicked his gaze back to his father, sharing a truly wicked grin. With mischief in his eyes, he returned his attention to the shellshocked Gryffindor. "Relax Potty. Due to... recent events, there have been a few changes in allegiance. You're as safe here as anywhere, I reckon."

"Mmm, perhaps moreso." Deftly tossing his man of silver hair back over his shoulders, the psion of the Malfoy clan waved his hand, directing Harry's possessions to one empty corner of the room. "These can wait till you've been properly reassured. While we await your professor, would you care to join us for supper? Your trip must have been quite stressful, dealing with that unpleasant... person."

Without really meaning to do so, Harry found himself nodding and following both blonds into a short hall leading from the front parlor. Now that his shock was dissipating somewhat, he could sense their underlying tension -- as if they were worried about his reactions. Such a concept sat poorly against all of the Gryffindor's preconceived notions about the Malfoy family.

Harry's full attention was once more diverted to his surroundings as he stepped into a large, airy kitchen. It was a feeling of warmth that greeted him, throwing yet another kink in his prejudices. He never would have believed either blond capable of looking so relaxed in such a common (if comfortable) room. Taking a seat at the oval table, he laid his wand within easy reach and allowed a long look at his new environment.

Three obviously charmed windows brightened up the room with early morning sunlight, even though it was nearly 10pm. One hung over the kitchen sink, a small bay window housing numerous herbs in small pots. The other two bracketed the dining table. Light oak cabinets stained a pale golden hue appeared to be oft-used and much cared for. Modern Muggle appliances gleamed silver, working in tandem with wizarding gadgets. A soft green paint covered the walls and ceiling, with cream colored sandstone tiles underfoot. Had Harry been asked for his opinion on a comfortable working kitchen, this room would come very close to the mark.

As the brunet took mental inventory, the Slytherins were having a silent conversation:

Yes Father, he's going to protest our plan. No Draco, you may not prank him just yet. Yes Draco, Severus will arrive shortly. No Father, I did not examine his Muggle clothes closely enough to notice his arse.

At the last exchange, Draco's eyebrows lifted all the way to his high hairline. Surely he had misinterpreted that look. Oh please! let him have misinterpreted that look! It was way too soon after his mother's... disappearance for him to accept his father's interest in anyone, much less his classroom rival.

As if reading his son's thoughts, Lucius leaned close to his son, whispering, "Calm yourself, Dragon. It was merely an observation. After all, you don't expect me to remain celebate, pining after your mother, do you?"

Draco found himself caught between revulsion and amusement. If he reacted this badly from a single stolen leer, how would Potter take to the idea? He made a mental note to watch future interchanges for early warning signs of sexual tension.

"Where are our manners, Father? We've offered our guest refreshment and left him sitting in wait." Turning abruptly to hid his smug grin, the younger blond began making tea and setting sandwich items on various plates.

Draco's industry drew Harry's contemplation short, his mouth beginning to water from the very idea of food being offered. Normally by this point in his summer hols, he was relegated to water and dry bread rations by his relatives. So it had only been twelve hours since breakfast at Hogwarts. His body urged him not to turn down the offer of sustenance. Moody's gravelly voice nagged at the back of his mind that this was a *very* bad idea, but his rumbling stomach vetoed the opposition.

What few objections remained were put to rest when the younger Slytherin fixed his own sandwich, poured a steaming cup of tea, and pushed the pot toward Harry. Draco heavily dosed his cup with sugar and lemon, sipping in contentment. "It's not poisoned, Scarhead," he said with a friendly smirk.

A simple statement, but Harry read the truth from both words and almost-smile. He promptly built his own meal and matched his rival bite for bite.

Shaking his head at the young wizards' antics, Lucius pulled out a chair beside the brunet. He poured a cup for himself, adding honey and lemon, and sipped quietly while he watched the teens devour every last morsel on the table.

Just as he was about to request a second pot be brewed, a soft sound drew his attention toward the doorway. "Ah Severus, I was about to firecall your quarters. I trust everything is in order then?"

Green eyes widened to comic proportions as the sole Gryffindor watched his least favorite professor slide into the chair opposite him and Malfoy Senior.

"Well, isn't this a cozy scene," his words drawling in that silky voice, Severus' face offered no clue to his mood. "Made yourself right at home, have you Mr. Potter?"

Cooling tea clogged the back of Harry's nose as he choked in surprise. Both at the nearly polite queries and the teacher's attire. He had never seen the great greasy git in anything less than his formal teaching robes (and once in a duelling costume). To witness the man in silk shirt -- unbuttoned halfway down his chest! -- and snug denims... made Harry's libido step up to make itself heard. Firmly shoving that errant desire away, Harry offered a weak smile at his professor.

"Good evening, Sir. Mr. Malfoy indicated that one of my teachers would be here, but he kept your identity a surprise." A quick sip to moisten his suddenly dry mouth. "Maybe now that you're here, you can explain a few things?

Severus raised an eyebrow at his student, then raised it slightly higher at both Malfoys. Directing his question at the senior blond, he asked, "You've told him nothing, Lucius?"

"Now really, Severus, surely you didn't expect him to believe anything I say. Nor my son either, I suspect." More meaning passed between them than such simple sentences could express, but neither young wizard was able to define the subtext.

"Of course, you discount the fact that the boy is unlikely to believe me either."

Harry almost flinched at the self-loathing laden in his teacher's voice. "Sir, I do trust you. It was... one of the things that the..." sighing pause "Headmaster expected of me. If Dumbledore trusted you enough to... do what he did... then it's only right for me to try as well."

Beginning softly with just a hint of sorrow, Harry's words quickly became loaded with conviction. He may not like the Potions Master's treatment of Gryffindors in general (or himself in particular), but Harry finally understood the treacherous line his instructor must walk.

Only the barest twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed Severus' calm facade. "Really Potter, what a cauldron-full of sentimental tripe." His harsh words were ruined by the nearly gentle smirk thrown in Harry's direction.

The Boy-Who-Lived found himself only a little unnerved by the... teasing banter from the grumpy Head of Slytherin. He greeted the not-quite grin with a beaming smile of his own, his eyes falling back to his empty cup. And once again missing the exchanged glances between his hosts -- two calculating and surprised, one amused and happily plotting.

~ * ~

**Chapter Three : Appreciation of Plain Talk**

For just about a month, Harry had coasted on a plateau of apathy. His surroundings held little interest for him, and since they seldom changed, he was hardly in danger from his distraction.

When it finally sunk in that Snape's actions were not only forgiven before the fact, but actually sanctioned by Dumbledore himself, Harry was made to re-evaluate his opinions of the dark wizard. And from there, it seemed only logical that his judgement of Draco Malfoy might also be misguided. True, the Silver Slytherin Prince was still a total prat, but he seemed to have as little free will in recent events as Harry had.

This being the most probable case, the Gryffindor made a few more snap decisions when he found himself an unexpected guest of the Slytherin icons. After all, he reasoned, if he had misjudged Draco... mightn't the elder Malfoy have some redeeming qualities as well? From what little he knew of Lucius, Harry saw a more refined version of his classmate -- fewer raw edges, more subtlety, nicer hair.

That last thought stopped him short. Since when did he take note of such things? And especially about men?

This worrisome topic distracted the Boy-Who-Lived from his underlying nerves and well-deserved concern. Surely he should have reacted more... more... more _anything_ to being sold off by his uncle.

But if he was to be totally honest with himself, Harry felt more secure in the presence of Death Eaters than locked away with the Dursleys. At the very least, he could justify using magic against dark wizards, whereas the Ministry would very likely not listen to any pleas of self-defense against his Muggle relatives. On top of that, he really did not want the press to discover how their beloved savior (at least for this week) was unable to defend himself against non-magical bullies.

Ah well... moving back to a less depressing subject...

The last few months prior to Dumbledore's death had forced Harry to accept his potions professor's better attributes. Granted, it nearly took an act of Merlin to make him drop old prejudices, but the Headmaster had shown him a number of memories to ensure his trust in the prickly man.

Harry had to wonder if he owed Ron the dozen galleons, however. One of Dumbledore's memories let slip that the Head of Slytherin was one-eighth vampire. Not enough to make him register at the Ministry, but enough to offer a few not-human characteristics -- such as heightened senses, a more graceful body, and that wickedly dark chocolate voice.

While the two Malfoy men were sharing their silent conversation, Harry mentally slapped himself once again. Why on earth was he noticing men's hair and voices? The next step would be admiring the cut of their robes, or their expressive eyes. He barely caught the groan before it alerteed his "hosts" to his disturbed thoughts.

And speaking of the devil (at least one of them), enter Severus Snape with full cloak swirl and sneer loaded and ready to fire. Harry really needed to stop listening in on Dudley's video games. He was starting to think in terms of armed warfare. Or those neat leather outfits they pour the main characters into.

Luckily, his participation in the conversation was expected, preventing Harry from detouring into even more uncomfortable mental debates.

~ * ~

Draco showed Harry to his room, the floating trunk and cage bobbing merrily behind the teens.

Opening the second door down a long hall from the parlor, Draco ushered his classmate inside. "You'll be sharing this room with me, Potter. Sorry, but there's only two bedrooms in this safehouse." A flick of pale wrist sent Harry's belongings to the foot of a neatly made twin bed. A second, much messier bed rested against the opposite wall, covered in random detritus.

"Wow Malfoy, you're a closet slob?" Harry couldn't help but snicker at the ever-immaculate young wizard. A quick grin took the sting from his jibe. "Not like I haven't seen worse. Who do you think plays house elf at the Dursleys'?"

Silver eyes locked onto Harry's face, seeking every nuance of the Gryffindor's words. Finally deciding that no insult was intended, Draco grinned and said, "So that rumor had some truth to it after all?"

He'd said too much. Harry could happily curse himself for forgetting to whom he was speaking. He'd only ever shared rooms with Ron and the other Gryffindor boys. It would take some effort to remember that this was _not_ one of his good friends.

"Yeah well, they liked having free labor," was all he said in response, turning to open his trunk.

Watching his classmate's face shut down of all emotion, Draco did something that was rarely witnessed even by his fellow snakes. He pushed himself off the wall and approached Harry, stopping just two feet from his rival. Reaching out a hand, he grasped the brunet's shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze.

"Not every family is like that, Potter. Hopefully you don't believe all the rubbish they've said about you." His voice almost as smooth as his father's, Draco kept his place long enough for Harry's evident shock to develop into weak gratitude. "Now, let your owl out for the night and let's rejoin the elders. We've got some items to discuss before bed."

~ * ~

After his son had led the Gryffindor back to their bedroom, Lucius took a breath and turned to face his friend. It wasn't often that he got to see such an unguarded expression on Severus' face, the lines of worry and fatigue overrun by speculation and curiosity.

"He's certainly grown up from the self-righteous little prick of his second year." Softening the criticism with a smile, Lucius located a bottle of brandy and two snifters before joining his friend on the sofa. "I hadn't given much thought to how much anyone else's child must mature -- as you know, Draco is in a class all his own -- however, Mr. Potter seems to be developing nicely."

He left the statement open in hopes of catching Severus' blunt opinions. Not long after their first appreciative sips were consumed, Lucius' patience was rewarded.

Thoughtfully tapping his finger along the stem of his glass, the Head of Slytherin replied, "Hmm, yes. Five years ago, I would have laughed long and loud had anyone told me I might find something to admire in a Potter. It is unfortunate, to be sure, that young Mr. Potter has been forced to maturity so quickly. Of course, he must show that same intellectual development if he is to survive and vanquish the Dark Lord."

Lucius was expecting his attempts to be redirected from the young Gryffindor, but he wasn't quite willing to give in just yet. He summoned a genial chuckle, drawing Snape's attention away from whatever thoughts had ensnared him.

"Still, you must admit how nicely he's grown, in all ways. As with Draco, Quidditch seems to have developed our little savior, hmm?"

Severus' eyes widened, his brow almost disappearing into his hairline. "Why Lucius, one would be inclined to think that you fancied _young_ Mr. Potter."

The emphasis on Harry's age was not lost on the blond, simply ignored. "Come now, Severus. He is almost of legal age -- a mere month away. Surely there is no harm in appreciation of physical beauty, simply innocent speculation."

An undignified snort greeted that comment. "Lucius, my oldest and dearest friend, there hasn't been one iota of innocence in either your mind or body since before we started at Hogwarts."

Exchanging looks of humor quickly devolved into healthy laughter, the old friends sharing a long-standing inside joke at their own expense. Truthfully, neither man could claim such innocence beyond an early age, as their respective families had not-so-subtly encouraged them to fight for their own survival.

It was to this cleansing laughter that the teens re-entered the parlor. Harry glanced at his classmate, tossing a question with his eyes, to which Draco shrugged and went to pour two short glasses of brandy. He handed one to Harry, then perched on the arm of a side chair.

"So, care to share the joke? I'm sure Potter could use a good laugh today."

~ * ~


	2. Chapters Four through Six

  
Author's notes: Harry finds himself surrounded by Slytherins... so why not act like a snake and be right at home?  


* * *

All disclaimers, notes, and random information can be found on the first page of this story.

~ * ~

**Chapter Four: Come Out of Your Shell**

Severus stared into his glass, memorizing the waves of amber liquid as they gently sloshed against the clear crystal. 

In theory, he could come up with a witty (or most likely sarcastic) rejoiner to his favored pupil's question. In reality... he voted to let Lucius field this one. Just to see how well the tall blond handled things, naturally.

The blond in question smirked at his son, softened his smirk to an almost smile for Harry, then growled at his old friend. "Thanks so very much, Sev."

"Always willing to help out, Luc," the dark Slytherin replied with a droll grin of his own.

Harry watched the interaction between the two men, shaking his head. From his perch nearby Draco heard the teen muttering, "Don't ask, probably don't want to know anyways."

Although... despite Harry's denial, he found the biplay more than a little fascinating. Here was his stern Potions Master, almost teasing, in a much better humor than he'd ever seen before. The elder Malfoy too seemed more relaxed, as if he'd finally thrown off some heavy weight.

Watching the various emotions crossing his classmate's face, Draco wanted to sneer at the Golden Boy. He could practically hear Harry's surprised thoughts. And what should anyone expect? With the Dark Lord back in business, even his most faithful were nervous and watchful. But here, ah here his father and honorary uncle were, as close to free as two traitors could get. Draco decided to give his rival the benefit of the doubt this one time -- for even thought Harry was in a precarious position, these two were much more likely to be killed. Rather sooner than later.

Nudging an elbow in Harry's ribs, Draco addressed the older wizards again, "Well, if you aren't planning on sharing the humor, maybe we can get started? Personally, I'd like a decent night's sleep for a change."

Both older wizards emitted something between a snort and a cough, before the Potions master said, "Very well, if you'll make yourselves comfortable, this might take awhile."

As the teens settled into place, Lucius joined his friend on the sofa. He waved his wand, uttered a soft incantation, and replenished everyone's drinks. Harry muttered a thanks, but his attention was fixed on his teacher.

"I suppose you deserve a bit of background first, Mr. Potter." Tapping a finger against his chin, Severus took a moment to collect his thoughts. "Shortly before the beginning of last school year, I was approached by one Narcissa Malfoy. Accompanying her was her cousin, Bellatrix LeStrange. As you can imagine, it was a... tedious meeting. Apparently, the Dark Lord expected Draco to assassinate Headmaster Dumbledore." Here Harry gasped, choking on his drink. "If he failed in this task, both he and his parents were to be killed in the most painful of ways."

The Gryffindor shot a sympathetic glance at both blonds. While he abhored their situation and many of their past actions, Harry fully sympathized with their plight. He too was expected to kill, or watch his loved ones die through his inactivity.

"Narcissa begged me to aid her son, calling for an old -- and unbreakable -- Wizard's Oath. Had we not suspected such an eventuality, I would have blown my cover that night." Sinking into memories, Snape's voice took on a mezmerizing quality.

"Albus and I had discussed the likelihood that one or more of my Slytherins would be commissioned to make an attempt on his life. As per his express orders, I had to agree to help, without actively helping, until such time as it became mandatory." He lifted his glass and drained it before ending with, "In order to save my own life. The manipulative old fool insisted that we needed a spy in the Inner Circle more than him surviving merely another few months."

"But," Harry couldn't keep from interrupting, "I thought the curse was stopped. His hand... That's what-"

"That is what he wished everyone to believe, Potter." Shaking his head, Severus cursed his mentor under his breath. "He would have been dead before you finished your final year, regardless of all my efforts. Did you not notice how slowly he moved toward the end? His body was decaying at an alarming rate, and it quickly became immune to every potion or spell we used to retard the process. If he had not... if I had not cast... had he survived the Astronomy Tower, his mind would now be as much blackened rot as you saw his right hand to be."

The Head of Slytherin allowed his student a few moments for this new information to sink in, taking the opportunity to refill his glass. He drained it in one long swallow, then topped it off again.

"So, let me see if I've got this right," Harry began, speaking with slow thoughtfulness, "the Headmaster figured that you would be tested, that one of the Death Eaters' kids would be told to kill him, and ordered you to time it just right to save your position as a spy for the Order."

"Yes, that sums it up well enough."

"And even if the perfect opportunity hadn't happened, he would still die soon. Without his usual power, all his Occlumency skills would be gone, and Voldie could just waltz in and rape his memories." What had begun as a quiet recitation of facts ended in almost panic, as Harry deduced the full extent of the probable ramifications.

His boarderline hysteria was averted by a snicker from the chair beside him. "Well, what do you know. Potty can put two and two together without the know-it-all's help."

It was Harry's turn poke his rival with an elbow, moderately relieved at the change of topic. "Hey now, Hermione doesn't do all the thinking! Just... most of the dry, historical stuff. I can't help it if she memorizes everything she reads. Something called photogetic memory... must be nice."

Draco's snort threatened to encourage a lengthy debate, stopped only by his Head of House.

"If we can proceed, gentlemen?" Severus waited long enough for the teens to exchange mock-glares. "Thank you ever so," under his breath finishing with 'matched set of reprobates', to which Lucius choked on a burst of laughter. "And you aren't any better, Luc."

Bowing his head gracefully, the elder blond haughtily said, "Why Sev, that's the nicest thing you've said about me in years."

Ebony eyes rolled heavenward. "Moving along. Shortly after meeting with the former Mrs. Malfoy-"

"Former? What? When?"

"Potter, if you can contain your inane questions for a short while, all will be answered." Snape waited for his student to settle down. "Former inasmuch as she renounced both father and son after Draco failed his mission. I believe she was fairly disappointed to discover that, even in prison, Lucius could prevent her from absconding with the family fortune.

"All beside the point, as interesting as it may be." He raised an eyebrow, receiving a guilty grin in apology for the interruption. "When Albus left the castle just after last term began, he made a brief -- and highly unauthorized -- visit to Azkaban. The first of three, if I'm not mistaken. He took a variety of my better healing potions, brought Lucius back from the edge of insanity, and began negotiations. I could only wish he had bothered to inform me of his plans. Imagine my predicament, upon arriving at an Unplottable retreat known only to Albus and myself, finding this one lounging about my sitting room as if he owned the place."

As intended, Severus' turn of phrase loosened the mood, both students chuckling at their teacher's expense.

"The next part of the story is mine, I believe." Lucius took a sip of brandy, then stood to pace the room while he collected his thoughts.

"Salazar knows, I am no Muggle lover. However, when a Malfoy takes an oath, and the recipient turns their back on their side of the vow, we no longer hold any loyalty toward the offending party."

"Father, speak slowly and use smaller words." Draco smirked at his classmate's glassy expression. "What my dear parent means is that the Dark Lord left him to rot in Azkaban, never trying to break him out. Even when he took the Dementors. Although, I must say that his treachery started well before then." The young blond's speech trailed off to a bitter note, heavily laden with contempt.

"Quite. But that topic can wait, yes?" Clearly, neither Malfoy was ready for full disclosure. Harry found a new sympathy for both dark wizards, even if he didn't agree with their politics. Honor and loyalty were highly valued traits to the Gryffindor.

A clearing throat redirected his attention to the prowling speaker, still stalking across the length of the parlor in aggitation.

"When my father insisted that I join the Dark Lord's service, I did so eagerly. He saw many troubles within our world, and had developed a plan to protect and nourish all magical people. And yet, even before his fall, our Lord-" he sneered the title "-had become a farce of what he once was. Chasing down prophecies and killing infants? These are not the proper occupations of a true leader. My father was killed for the dastardly crime of accidentally ripping Riddle's favorite robes. Mother followed only days later, killed at her husband's funeral for daring to question the reasons behind Father's death."

Here he stood still, directly behind his son's chair. With a gentle hand, Lucius lovingly stroked the pale hair of his only child. "Narcissa had just disclosed her pregnancy to me. It was... the most bittersweet moment of my life. Finally I would have my heir, and yet I could not share the joy with my parents."

Draco's hand crept up to join his father's, each resting on the younger man's shoulder.

"Needless to say, I was not heartbroken when the bastard became non-corporeal. After his return, Riddle was more unhinged than ever. I did what I could to remove my son and myself from his influence. Before that debacle at the Department of Mysteries, my plan was going quite nicely."

Harry watched the interaction between the blonds, clamping down a sharp stab of jealousy. So Draco's dad wasn't made of ice. That was no reason to want such obvious affection aimed toward himself. He took a gulp of brandy, sputtered as it burned his throat, and addressed what he'd just learned. "So, Professor Dumbledore's visits didn't cause you to change sides, just made it more official?"

Grey eyes flickered across the room, passing a silent message to the Potions Master. Returning his gaze to the young Gryffindor, Lucius smiled. "Yes and no. He offered amnesty and sanctuary for my family, in exchange for information. He also asked if I would spy for him. The first part was accepted, the second denied. During his last visit, we came to a... reasonable agreement."

"Uh huh, there's more to it than that," Harry began, holding up a hand to forestall Lucius' rebuttal. "Don't worry, I won't get nosy here. If you need me to know, I'll hear about it. If one of my friends dies because I *didn't* know... you'll learn why the Sorting Hat first chose Slytherin for me."

Accepting the nominal pardon at face value, Lucius inclined his head in Harry's direction. "So here we are, and here is where your summer tutilage shall take place."

Looking at each of the Slytherins, Harry frowned. "You've forgotten something. How did you get Uncle Vernon to 'sell' me for the summer? And does this deal have strings attached?" Chewing his lip, Harry made his eyes narrow in consternation. "I'm not going to have to pimp myself out for this training, am I?"

A trio of wide eyes met his last question. It took all of Harry's considerable will power to keep a straight, almost innocent, expression on his face. Inwardly, he patted himself on the back for having left these three particular wizards in stunned silence.

~ * ~

**Chapter Five: Getting to the Point...**

The Boy-Who-Lived got up from his seat, finally allowing a small explosion of laughter out as he summoned juice and snacks from the kitchen. When he turned back to his hosts, Harry fell into a fresh wave of mirth at the gobsmacked wizards' expense.

"Oh come on, people. Can't I make a joke once in awhile? You act as if I'm supposed to be some sort of shrinking violet." Malfoy Senior and Snape closed their mouths in response, leaving only the younger blond to express his shock. Harry rolled his eyes, went back to his seat, and patted his classmate's head before flopping back into his chair.

"One of the first things you all need to understand is that, like any Slytherin worth his weigh in salt, I've had to develop a few masks. Take Draco's holier-than-thou routine, for example. It's effective for most of our classmates -- they never bother looking beyond the surface. And they're fickle about any changes they have to deal with. Or Professor Snape's snarky git act. No offense, sir, but it'd be alot more believable if you hadn't gone through so much trouble to save my sorry arse so many times. And Mr. Malfoy, you've broken your charade tonight, but even before that I could see chinks in the armor. So how about giving me some credit for not being that ridiculous Golden Gryffie icon, huh?"

The first to retrieve his bearings was Severus, who sent a withering glare at his least favored student before chuckling darkly. "I had suspected as much, but you are so seldom found without your adoring fans for me to witness any other aspect of your persona."

From his position standing behind his son's chair, Lucius shrugged one elegant shoulder. "This is not much of a surprise. Often times, people caught in the spotlight will hide their true face from the public."

Apparently, Draco had the hardest time accepting the latest information. He sat stiffly in his chair, eyes clouded with confusion as his mind tried to process.

"And another leap of logic, I suspect that you, Mr. Malfoy, haven't switched sides so much as you simply want to see old Voldie defeated." Harry threw a wicked grin at the elder blond. "What's it worth to you?"

At the Gryffindor hero's brazen question, Lucius joined his son in disbelieving silence.

Visibly reverting to his professor mode, Severus clucked his tongue before admonishing, "Mr. Potter, what would your devoted friends have to say about you blackmailing your potential instructors?"

Another, more dramatic eyeroll. "Pul- _lease_. It's not like they'll ever hear about this discussion. And even if they did, it's your word against mine." Harry lowered his head, peering up at his teacher behind thick lashes and blinking slowly. "I could even tell them all the sordid details of how you stole my virginity, using it to boost your own dark energy in a ritual made to empower your beloved Master."

By the time he was done, all three Slytherins had their jaws on the floor. Harry snorted at them. "Yeah, now who's the gullible one?"

Lucius flicked his eyes away from the Boy-Who-Lived, sharing a questioning glance with his childhood friend. The unspoken reply -- don't ask me, this wasn't what I expected either. Further communication was broken by Harry's tenor voice.

"Now, have we had enough fun at my expense? I can play most of the same games you can. So let's skip the shite and move along, shall we? Oh, and would one of you reattach Draco's lower jaw? I think it may be dislocated." Snickering, Harry had to make several attempts at swallowing his pumpkin juice.

"Indeed. Lucius, perhaps we should treat young Mr. Potter as one of our House. Draco, return to your room and do try to straighten yourself out a bit." Issuing orders seemed to bring Snape into the present. He turned back to Harry with a rueful expression. "I... must apologize, Mr. Potter. Albus did try to tell me, several times, that you had almost been placed in Slytherin. Each time, it appeared that he was simply trying to rile me. Be that as it may, you were far safer in Gryffindor."

Harry nodded, quickly chewing the last of his sandwich. He washed it down with a sip of juice and grinned his best devil-may-care. "Most likely, you're right, Professor. My life expectancy is short enough without having to sleep with one eye open."

Draco returned, stumbling back to his seat looking moderately less rattled. "Next time one of you wants to yank the rug out from under me, at least warn me to find some pillows first." His attempt at imitating Snape's glare fell short of the mark.

"Sorry 'bout that, Draco, but all three of you were operating under some misconceptions that could prove dangerous." Sliding back to the affable Gryffindor, Harry offered the blond some juice and snacks. The younger Malfoy absently accepted, nibbling a lemon tart to keep himself occupied as he tried to digest everything.

"So. Where do we go from here? I assume, since the Ministry hasn't broken down the door, that we can practice spells over the summer. What's on the lesson plan, Professor?"

The ability to mentally 'switch gears' had kept Severus Snape alive for far longer than most spies were likely to live. And he did have a plan. Of sorts. Which the damned brat had just shot holes through. Dragging up another fine spy ability -- to act spontaneously on limited information (ie: to bullshit his way through) -- Severus made a decision.

"First, apparation. You would learn how this year in any case, but the skill may well save your hide. After that, perhaps... mid-level curses and shielding spells."

"Hold on a second, sir." Once more interrupting, Harry gave a patently false smile of apology. "The Weasley twins already gave me a crash course (literally) on apparating. I could pass the test tomorrow, if they'd let me take it. And mid-level curses? Didn't the Headmaster tell you about the DA? We've already covered most of the Auror training program's textbooks. And Ron and 'Mione and me, we've adjusted a few spells to work only on people who bear the Dark mark." Harry almost felt like preening under the involuntary looks of approval from the two older wizards. "So, how about duelling practice, some sniper-style games, and maybe learning to be animagi? That'd be right useful for hiding or spying."

Snape's eyebrow did its thing, as he contemplated the proposal. "I will agree, on one condition." He waited for his audience's full attention. "Mr. Potter, would you care to share your modified spells with the whole class?"

The pleased grin on Harry's face was answer enough. 

~ * ~

Deciding to continue in the morning, each man said their goodnights before retiring. Unfortunately for Draco, he forgot to take Harry's Slytherin side into account. Waking up with pink fuzzy bunny feet -- that refused to leave his body -- was a rather effective reminder. 

Muttering to himself on the way to the kitchen, Draco forced his brain to wake up enough to start making plans. "Alright Potter, let the games begin."

~ * ~ 

**Chapter Six : Down to the Drawing Board**

As late as they went to bed (Harry had checked his Muggle wristwatch -- well after 1am), the Gryffindor still woke before his hosts. Having never had the luxury of sleeping in, Harry's internal clock forced him out of bed at half six. He quietly took a shower and put on fresh clothes, relieved not to need his cousin's castoffs here.

Even after taking his time for morning ablutions, none of the others were showing any signs of life. Grumbling over the unfair sloth of the upper class -- with a heavy dose of sarcasm -- Harry headed to the kitchen.

His attention the night before had been stunted by a fair amount of shock and introspection, making the morning's foray a series of discoveries. The expanded larder was fully stocked for long-term habitation, which made sense as Harry suspected there would be few field trips for those in hiding. Opening the refrigerator proved that it too was magically enhanced and carried stay-fresh charms on all perishables.

A mischievous grin crossed the brunet's face. He had managed to impress all three Slytherins the previous evening with his words and wit, and for an encore he would make a fine breakfast to greet their *snicker* shining faces this morning.

~ * ~

The tantalizing aroma of well-brewed tea and other morning vituals drew Lucius from the depths of slumber. His first reaction was to curse whatever ill-trained house elf that had dared disturb his rest, before recalling that there were no elves in residence. So which of his companions had begun breakfast... 

To the best of his knowledge, his son had no abilities in the kitchen beyond the simplest of fare. And while Severus was a decent cook, he was to be found snoring lightly in the next bed. Which left their newest member.

Showered and groomed, the elder Malfoy followed his stomach's insistent lead toward the delectable scents beckoning him into the kitchen. There he found a plate overflowing with fluffy omelet, fruit-topped waffle, and thick slices of sizzling ham, set in front of his preferred chair. A steaming cup of tea appeared as he reached his seat, already prepared to his taste.

"Good Morning, Mr. Malfoy. Do let me know if you'd prefer something else. I'm just messing around with different things right now." Harry's voice almost made him jump, coming from behind his right shoulder as the youth added a serving platter of seasoned tomatoes and mushrooms to the table. A carafe of warmed maple syrup joined the spread, and Harry smirked behind the blond's back.

"Let me help, sir. We certainly don't want this silver mane to get coated in syrup." So saying, the Gryffindor wound Lucius' long hair in one hand, working a ribbon around it and into a bow. If his fingers lingered on the older man's neck a second longer than necessary, Harry figured he could get away with it -- the formidable Malfoy psion was too busy devouring waffles and tea to chastise him for taking liberties.

Less than ten minutes later, the Gryffindor joined him at the table. Harry scooped up his own serving of various foodstuffs and dug in. After all, one of the chief benefits of being the cook was to taste test the finished product.

He moaned around a mouthful of cheese and vegetable omelet, quickly washing it down to greet the latest riser. "Good Morning, Professor. I hope you'll find something you like already prepared. If not, let me know and I'll whip up whatever suits your fancy."

In truth, Harry had started eating even before the first batch of waffles were placed on the iron. Aunt Petunia had trained him well, after all -- no one was to witness the 'abnormality' doing anything unnecessary. Seen and not heard, and only seen when they wanted a silent servant. But those thoughts were hardly condusive to a pleasant morning, and Harry did his best to shove them into the darkest shadows of his mind.

As he came back to the present, Harry realized that his teacher had gone no further than the doorway. He grinned, quickly displacing the urge to tease the Potions Master. Pouring a cup of tea and doctoring it to suit Snape's tastes, he offered the cup and drew out a chair. "Sir, if you'll just point at your preference, I'll fix you a plate."

The Boy-Who-Lived had no intentions of turning into a house elf for yet another group, but his plan to keep both older wizards off balance was coming along nicely. He needed them to shake loose their former opinions of him, especially since each had developed very vivid impressions of him as a terribly lucky but otherwise useless Gryffindor. Harry acknowledged that he had worked hard to prefect that mask, but it was time to unveil at least a bit of his competence to this trio of wizards.

And speaking of trios, the third could be heard shuffling down the hall. Harry lightly touched his teacher's arm, leading the man to his chair. Moments later, a bedraggled Draco joined the group, looking very much worse for wear. His hair stuck out in all directions, making Harry's messy fop almost seem tame by comparison. His pyjama top was half unbuttoned, the waistband of his pants twisted to the side. On his feet were, at first glance, fluffy bunny slippers in a lurid pink. Harry made a choked sound, holding back the fit of laughter demanding to be set free. He hadn't really expected the spell to go quite so well -- the blond's feet had been transfigured into flourescent pink rabbit feet, and Draco had yet to notice!

Apparently, the youngest Slytherin was less of a morning person than his Head of House. Even after gulping down two cups of strong, unadulterated tea and a plate of food, Draco's eyes were still barely slitted open, completely unfocused.

Lucius saw the way Harry was watching his son, humor flitting across the youthful face, and came to a conclusion, "Mr. Potter, it is truly a waste of time pulling pranks on my dear son until he is alert enough to appreciate your efforts. I would counsel you to postpone any future endeavors until midmorning, if you wish to have his undivided attention."

Harry stopped his quiet snickering through sheer force of will. "Honestly sir, this is much more entertaining. The spell will wear off in about half an hour -- just enough time for me to memorize the vision, and too soon for him to think about revenge." Seeing the speculation in the older man's eyes, Harry rushed to clarify, "I'm definitely not interested in him that way, Mr. Malfoy. But you gotta admit, he's just too funny like this."

A tilt of the silver head acknowledged Harry's assertion, grey eyes searching black to do another of those wordless conversations.

"Oi, would you two stop that?!" Both older men glanced at the sole Gryffindor. "I've got a girlfriend, thank you very much. Besides, if I were going to switch teams, it'd be with someone older, more... experienced and refined. Your son is far from my ideal of a prospective date."

Severus' lips twitched, mirroring the humor found on Lucius' face. "Indeed, Mr. Potter? Would you care to elaborate on this potentially informative topic? I would have thought the Golden Boy to be thoroughly heterosexual, if rumors carry an ounce of truth."

Instead of the blush he was expecting to cause, Severus watched his student dissolve into quiet laughter.

"Oh please. It's not like I can't read, sir." Identical expressions of confusion greeted Harry's statement. "Here's the thing. In the Muggle world, most people are straight. Those who can admit to an attraction to their own gender are usually labelled gay, even if they like both sexes. But that's nowhere near the truth for magic folk, is it? Magical compatibility happens where it happens, so finding a love match with either gender is acceptible. 'Mione and I found some books explaining all that, and unless there's some unwritten rules in the upper class, I'll keep an open mind. For now, I'm taken anyways, and I won't consider playing around on Ginny."

"Mr. Potter, I must apologize once more. Many Muggle-raised choose to maintain their hetero-centric outlook, ignoring the differences to be found within our magical culture." Snape sipped his tea, thoughtfully considering his next query. "Can we safely assume that you, and Miss Granger of course, have researched the basics of political and familial practices as well?"

Harry nodded as he munched on a piece of crispy bacon. Swallowing, he wiped his mouth and smirked at his professor. "Naturally. We're at enough of a disadvantage without the additional ignorance of our culture. And since Hogwarts offers no classes to orient us, we did our own research." His grin turned somewhat shy. 

"We've begun a series of booklets to give to the other Muggle-raised. One set for the parents and family, another for the witch or wizard, that lists the best resources for answering all kinds of questions. It was hard work too! So many books seem to take for granted a certain level of backgroud information. For instance, it took us almost three months to locate an explanation for the term 'apprentice-bond', even though we found it used everywhere. All the authors seem to feel that the reader should already know what that was."

Throughout his speech, Harry added tobasco sauce to Draco's eggs, dropped a tablespoon of garlic on his waffle, and almost as much ground pepper into his tea. The blond ate mechanically, not registering such conflicting flavors. Lucius sat back and watched his son with a wicked glint in his eye.

"He's going to be absolutely miserable all morning," the senior Malfoy stated absently. He was more amused than worried -- they had a resident Potions Master to administer stomach relief potions, after all.

"Nah, the Slytherins do this sort of thing to him all the time. I just wanted him to feel more at home," Harry said in a sweetly innocent voice. His cherubic act was tarnished somewhat when he tipped a capful of ground cumin into Draco's already pranked cup of tea.

~ * ~


	3. Chapters Seven through Nine

  
Author's notes: The secret's out. snicker.  


* * *

All disclaimers, notes and random information can be found on the first page of this story

~ * ~

**Chapter Seven : Wiping the Slate**

"Mr. Potter, are you implying that our beloved Ministry of Magic, in conjuction with the revered Hogwarts Board of Governers, have failed to provide a fair percentage of students with sufficient information to make a smooth transition between the Muggle and magical worlds?"

The dark Slytherin had been relatively quiet throughout the morning meal. His words caused Harry's head to move with less grace than he'd like, honing in on the voice to watch Snape's face. Truthfully, he knew that not everything the older man said was intended to be offensive or antagonistic... but damned if it didn't _sound_ like it sometimes.

"Yes sir, we feel it's definitely needed. And no offense, but the Ministry's run by idiots. The Governers aren't much better. To adopt a phrase from... an unnamed source-" here Harry smiled sweetly at both older men "-calls them a bunch of elitist snobs out to make money and gain power for themselves, without even bothering to try doing their jobs. Ignorance can be fixed, but stupidity is bone-deep. Think we can institute IQ tests for all prospective Ministry employees? Although... that might mean we'd have to fire more than half of the current bunch. Merlin, what a mess that'd be! Nevermind that, we should just take over and have 'Mione put everything on computer."

Lucius followed the young man's ramblings, first snickering at his opinions of the governmental employees. At some point, Harry's train of thought wandered far off track, losing the pureblood somewhere between IQ testing and computers. The blond's counterpart did somewhat better, as Severus had more hands-on experience with Muggle artifacts, but he appeared to be slightly baffled as well.

Seeing the confusion on both wizards' faces, Harry abandoned his list of complaints (for the time being) with an apologetic grin. "Sorry 'bout that. Remind me to get one of the 'Magic Meets Technology' pamphlets from 'Mione for you to look over, ok? Anyways... Yes, I think the magical community goes out of its way to make things a little more difficult for us Muggle-raised than is necessary. After all, don't we need every person we can get in this war? And adding to the gene pool can only be a good thing. Not meaning to be offensive, but you purebloods are going to breed yourselves out of existence pretty soon unless you start bringing in fresh blood. The percentage of squibs is getting higher every generation."

As he paused for breath, Harry took the opportunity to evaluate both older men. Lucius' face was only partially masked, allowing the Gryffindor to see his careful contemplation in play. On the other side of the table, Severus' eyes were narrowed in displeasure, but it didn't seem to be pointed in Harry's direction so he simply made a mental note and resumed his pontification. He really liked that word -- always made him give an internal giggle.

"There's nothing wrong with following your heritage, keeping track of every person's parents and cousins and step-dog twice removed. Nothing wrong with the whole 'heirs' bit either. It's a fine thing to take pride in one's ancestory, culture, and abilities -- until someone goes overboard with it and starts killing off anyone different from them. 'Cus hey, differences are good, and can be loads of fun too. And now it's probably time for me to shut up, since I'm starting to sound like the 'Moral of the Day'." A faint blush crept across Harry's cheeks, and he suddenly found the table top to be fascinating. Really.

"Mr. Potter-"

"Professor, please, if we're going to be working together this closely, living side by side and all, would you consider calling me Harry? This is supposed to be our summer holiday -- surely we can leave the starch out til September, right? And you too, Mr. Malfoy. We're going to be living in each others' pockets for the next seven or eight weeks. All this formality just doesn't sit well for the here and now." Although his cheeks remained flushed, the color spread no further than his lower jawline. 

Harry let his gaze fall on the younger blond, who looked to be dozing off against the kitchen wall. Snagging a fresh raspberry, he took aim and lobbed it toward Draco's open mouth. His aim was spot on, unfortunately the Slytherin's lips weren't parted enough to allow the berry inside. Instead, the blond roused slightly and yawned, almost choking on the small fruit as he inhaled. Harry's Seeker reflexes saved his classmate from tumbling to the floor. To his great amazement, Draco remained half-asleep and limp as a wet noodle. With a wave of his wand, Harry turned the blond's chair into a lounger and stretched him out to rest.

Watching his student closely, Severus didn't know how to react to Harry's request. It was hardly against protocol for a teacher to address his pupil by their given name outside of class, and yet he had never been invited to do so with a non-Slytherin. Of course, the young man did have a point -- working as closely as they were anticipating, it would be a waste of time and energy to keep up such tall walls of formality. Severus decided to go one step farther. 

"Harry, I shall agree to call you by your personal name on the condition that you do the same with mine. Regardless of age or rank, we four must begin on more equal ground if we are to build the level of trust necessary for many of the upper levels of spellwork I wish to undertake." Darting a look at the senior Malfoy, he voiced the question for Harry's benefit, having already seen agreement in the blond's face. "Lucius also, of course. Especially since it might prove difficult for you to remember to adress Draco as anything other than Malfoy. Old habits do take great strength of will to break."

Offering a barely-there smile, the elder blond tilted his head forward in a mock bow. "Naturally Harry, you must learn to call me Lucius. Or Luc, as Severus does. Our fathers surely enjoyed saddling us with such pompous names."

When Harry finally remembered to lift his mouth off the floor, he reigned in his astonishment long enough to rethink that last sentence. And then he snickered, just a bit. Which developed into a snort. That then went on to become a full-blown bellow of laughter. As the older wizards watched the supposed savior of the magical world dissolve into hilarity, the only answer to their questions as to what had caused his uproar was --

"Draco?" *snort* "Pot meet kettle!"

~ * ~

**Chapter Eight : Wait. Scratch that. Reverse it.**

"Pot meet kettle!" Harry spluttered again, barely coherent. Caught in a fit of giggles, he couldn't make himself answer the concerned glances from both older men. Every time he looked up at their perplexed, worried faces, it would set him off into another round of stomach-aching laughter.

From his side of the table, Severus was first to see the tears streaking down his student's cheeks. If he weren't convinced that the Gryffindor was truly amused, he might've tried forcing a Calming Draught down the young man's throat. As it was, he could only shrug at Lucius' interrogatory expression. "Don't expect me to explain, Luc. The mental processes of an adolescent brain have always been so much nonsense to me."

Figuring that to be the most definitive explanation he was likely to receive, the elder Malfoy inclined his head briefly, then redirected his attention to his son. Without intending to speak aloud, he muttered, "Ah, if only I could have spared Draco his pretentious moniker. Whatever was Narcissa thinking? Draconiclees Panreaes? One day, the boy is going to seek revenge on her."

"Oh. My. Gods. **_I KNEW IT!!_** " Apparently, Harry heard the blond's unconscious ramble. "Draconiclees... *hic* sounds like... *snort* a lesser Roman... *cackle* demon." The brunet's tears and hilarity-induced clumsiness soon had him falling off his chair, rolling about on the floor in a small ball of uncontained mirth. The last words either older wizard could decifer: "Or maybe... *sniffle* a new type... *sputter* of anti-depressant drug!"

After that, Severus and Lucius gave up on understanding. Together they cleared up the remains of breakfast, storing away the few leftover items and setting the dishes to wash. By the time the Potions Master began wiping off the table, Harry had regained a semblence of calm -- or at least enough to prevent a call to St. Mungo's Psychiatric Ward.

Flopping back into his chair, the Gryffindor sloshed half a cup of tea and drained it down. He wiped his face with the edge of his shirt sleeve, turning to look at the indulgent stares. "What? You gotta admit it's funnier'n'hell. And if that's his real name, I'll bet the two of you have even worse. But save it, ok? Wait til I need a good laugh. Here I always thought mine was bad enough... jeez, it must be a pureblood thing."

"Indeed, Mr. Potter. Harry, excuse me." Snape decided that it was past time to begin some sort of formal training. Or at the very least to move out of the kitchen. "Now if you are quite finished, perhaps we can remove ourselves to the study. I believe there are several texts we must look through to ascertain the proper course of your training."

"Sev," shining eyes and an impish grin halted the dark Slytherin's progress, "could you possibly... I dunno... try not to sound like a teacher so much? Umm, 'cus we all know you can talk like a regular person, if you try really hard." Harry's sweetest expression turned up another notch as he attempted to take the sting out of his request. 'If I look cute enough, maybe they won't hex me. Hey, lookit me, I'm cyoot! And that just proves I've spent too much time on Dudley's computer. The internet is fun, but probably bad for my health. At least around these three.'

Exhaling a long-suffering sigh, the Potions Master cuffed his student on the back of the head, pulling Harry up and dragging him down the hallway toward the study. Lucius could be heard doing much the same to his son, if Draco's whingy complaints were any clue. 

Soon enough, each man held an oversized tome of ancient magic. Or maybe an ancient tome of oversized magic. Either way seemed to work, as Harry stopped himself from yawning over the incredibly boring book in his lap. "Whoever created these spells was as long-winded as Fudge. There's gotta be a more efficient way."

"Pot-Harry, these spells have served the magical community well for centuries. Whyever would we need to alter the methods and means which have proven adequate," Lucius' voice was mild, but with a slight undertone of warning.

"Please Luc, don't get in a snit. I'm not saying we should abandon all the old stuff, really, but for our purposes against the Wacked-out Wonderboy... He's gonna be using these stale old spells, so shouldn't we look for curses and charms that he's never heard of? New or old, neither are better than the other, but we might stand a better chance against him with spells created in the last twenty years." Harry shuffled another book off the stack beside his chair, flipping through its index before sniffing in disgust. "I'll bet we could make our own spells for the job, using street slang or something, and it'd be more effective than the Darkest of those old books."

Severus quietly closed the tome he was perusing, 'Magicks Not to Be Borne', and caught his friend's eye. However irreverant the Gryffindor's words, they felt he might just have an idea worth exploring. "Very well, Harry. What would you like your spell to accomplish?"

Although he'd often thought about what he wished to do to little Tommy Riddle, Harry made himself sit back to concentrate on the question. It wouldn't be enough to simply kill the snake-faced bastard -- they'd have to get rid of his soul entirely, and send every scrap of the Dark Weenie's magic somewhere else. Not only that, but they must be able to do so without killing off these two marked Slytherins. Harry was positive that there were others who had been marked against their better judgement, or who had changed their opinions since joining the Death Eaters. 'Oh, this is one seriously tangled web we have to un-weave.'

"The way I see it, we've got to do several things with one spell. We won't have the time to cast more than the one big bang, so there are a few exclusionary clauses that have to go into it." He took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts into the most logical order. 

"First thing we need to do is to find out which of the Death Eaters aren't really crazy about following him. That part will come in toward the end of the spell, I figure, but there are bound to be more than just you two who bear the Mark that would prefer to be rid of all association to He-Who-Needs-A-New-Hobby. As for the spell itself, the most important part is... Riddle's soul **and** body have to be destroyed and sent Elsewhere. We can't have any of his more loyal psychophants attempting to bring him back again. There can't be anything left over after we're done this time. Next, we've got to make sure than any and all ties he's got through his magical web are broken during this... exorcism. A catagoric destruction of anything and everything he's ever touched or connected with his thoughts, cleansing it of his magic. This should include, but not be limited to, severing all ties with the Dark Marks branded on all followers. Although... I'd like to add a little subspell here that would remove them from those who are truly disgusted by their bond to him. That should be a simple enough addition, right? And then we'd want to make sure to wipe out whatever brainwashing he's done with the followers who are 'walking the line' between sides, force them to make their own decisions for a change."

Harry took a deep breath at the end of his monologue, before searching the Slytherins' expressions. He was quite gratified to see the depth of respect on his professor's face -- impressing the Potions Master was a difficult task for even his little snakes. Similarly, Lucius' eyebrows were most definitely raised to show his approval. Harry didn't much want to inspect the warmth he felt from that. Only Draco's face was blank, but as the younger blond hadn't opened his eyes in the past half hour, Harry wasn't that concerned. He found himself craving acknowledgement from the older men, though he wasn't sure why.

Lucius was the first to speak. "Well done, Harry. Your premise may yet require a small amount of trimming, however it does seem rather thorough. I must admit to some degree of shock that you would wish to add that last part. You'll hear no objections from me, of course, but that addendum could provide unwanted pardons to any number of questionable types."

"Indeed." A thoughtful grunt filled the brief pause while the Potions Master considered his pupil. "May I ask, Mr. Potter, how long you have been contemplating this topic? Surely you've spent more time and effort on the desired effects of this spell than any homework assignment you've turned in to me."

Coughing through an embarassed laugh, Harry ducked his head to hide a faint blush. "Well, this is sorta more important, isn't it? OWLs and NEWTs are just tests, and they can always be retaken. I'm only going to get one shot at this, or more of the people I care about will die. Vanquish a Dark Lord versus homework... hmm... I just don't know... which needs more attention?"

The Gryffindor's sarcastic words were met with twin eyerolls.

~ * ~

**Chapter Nine : Oscillating Emotions**

"Much as it pains me to agree with you, Harry, for once you have your priorities in order." Deepest brown eyes flicked toward his contemporary, but before one of their silent exchanges could take place, Harry interrupted the 'discussion'.

"Y'know, it'd be really nice if you two would **_cut that out!_** " The Gryffindor blew a lock of hair out of his eye, clearly exasperated with his new tutors. "We should be building some level of trust here, and all this 'looking' that you're doing is hardly going to help matters. If you've got something to say, tell the whole class or hold your comments til you leave the room." Harry snorted at what he'd just said, then continued with words intended to prick the older men's elitest attitudes, "After all, it's so terribly rude to talk about someone behind their back, or in this case to un-talk in front of my face."

While the two coherent Slytherins contemplated Harry's complaint, he was busy building up a fine head of steam. So many people felt him too young to handle the important facts he truly needed to know concerning the upcoming conflict. Too young to be informed of the dirty details. Too young to be armed properly. Too young to be responsible with the more advanced magics (that were desperately needed to keep him alive). Just too young period. 

By the time Severus collected his thoughts into a reasonable facsimile of an apology -- such as it was, as no true Slytherin would offer amends without appropriate motivation -- his student had worked himself up to a high tantrum.

From his position, Lucius was better able to see the play of emotions crossing the Gryffindor's face. Unfortunately for him, he had less practice at interpreting Harry's range of temperment than either his son or his friend. He suspected, due to the younger man's tender years and stage of development, that he was dangerously close to a very large, flashing 'X'... ETA to emotional breakdown : 10 seconds and counting.

Standing abruptly, the red-faced Gryffindor proceeded to prowl the length and width of the study -- at 12x14, this meant several near misses of running into the trio of Slytherins. With each lap around the rather small room, Harry's magic crackled ominously, sending tendrils of apprehension through the older wizards and disturbing Draco's after-breakfast nap. Books began levitating, scrolls rattled in aggitation, and desk drawers opened and closed in a cacaphony of noise. One particularly enthusiastic quill circumnavigated the younger blond's head several times, trailing its feather along the dozing face until Draco woke with a loud sneeze.

"Bloody hell, Father, what've you two done now?" He demanded as he quickly took refuge behind his lounger.

Lucius could do little but watch the scene unfold in morbid fascination. Ofttimes he had been the unwilling witness to Lord Voldemort's eratic bursts of spontaneous magic, unable to do anything more than pray for his own continued existance. To see such a display from young Potter was both terrifying and encouraging.

The Head of Slytherin House held a similar opinion to his long-time friend -- at the very least, they would have Harry's raw power (if not skill) to combat his unwanted master. Still, Severus had no idea how to diffuse the situation without incurring bodily injury.

Draco watched his father and favorite teacher waffle between awe and panic. If he were more alert, he would most probably have enjoyed the situation more; however, the Slytherin Prince figured, quite logically, that he was the only one present to have ever witnessed such a display... making him the best choice to call his rival back to himself. He sighed with not a little drama.

"Oi, Potter. Reign it in or use it."

Such simple words, spoken in the much hated, snobbish voice, broke through Harry's internal loop of anger. In a flash of killer green eyes, the Gryyffindor took a deep breath, visibly pulling in tendrils of wild magic. His body still vibrated with barely supressed rage, but his audience was relieved when floating and/or rotating objects resumed their previous positions.

In a deceptively soft tone, the Boy-Who-Lived addressed the room in general, "Y'know... everyone has a trigger or two. Just things that are guaranteed to set them off." His breath was short and shallow, breaking his thoughts into brief sentences that were more easily controlled. "Call me tetchy, but I really, **really** hate having people talk over my head. Or discuss me without giving me the Simple. Fucking. Courtesy. of defending myself. So if you please, Sev, Luc, could you possibly refrain from treating me like some inanimate object. Or worse, like a servant who isn't worthy of anything more than disdain or contempt, hmm?"

Taking one more deep breath, Harry drew the last of his subconscious magic back into himself. The entire room seemed to contract with the effort, walls and bookcases boring towards the slight body still trembling with barely contained rage. As Harry slowly released his lungs, the fixtures subtly shifted back to their respective places. His eyes remained closed until, with a flick of his fingers, a cup of hot chocolate appeared in his hand. Slits of green watched the steam swirl above the soothing milky brown beverage, with Harry using the scent as a soporific more than refreshment.

"I do hope you gentlemen will excuse my manners. At present, I doubt if I could conjure anything... unpolluted to offer you." He took a deep swallow, carefully licking his lips. "Now, unless you have immediate need of my services, I'm going to go take a bath."

So saying, the young wizard glided into the hall, quietly closing the door behind him. Not a sound could be heard from the other rooms as the door closed, yet the trio of Slytherins kept their places in silence for several strained minutes after Harry's departure. At last, Draco broke the uneasy quiet with an undignified snort.

"Well, whatever you two did sure set him off. You should be grateful he's learned a bit of control recently, otherwise we'd be praying for the emergency ward at St. Mungo's right about now." Raising his wand, the young blond summoned a cup of tea for himself, and a bottle of brandy for the two older wizards. "Dose yourselves with a glass, then figure out a way to rectify this mess. Sweet Salazar's skirts, he's been here less than a full day, and you've already managed to piss off the Boy-Who-Lived this far? Give it another week and we won't have to worry about old Snake Eyes catching us, eh?"

As a rule, Lucius would never allow his only heir to scold him in any way. He very privately acknowledged that, just once, just maybe, he and Severus might deserve to be dressed down. A bit. His silver eyes darted over to his old friend for a second opinion, but the dark wizard refused to meet his gaze.

"Luc, let us begin using words, aloud, shall we? I am somewhat embarassed to admit it, but Potter makes a valid point. Regardless of our long-standing habits, such communication must be viewed as the height of rudeness to those parties unfamiliar with ourselves." Severus drained his glass of brandy in one long swallow, never allowing eye contact with either blond. "Merlin's blistered bollocks! Have you ever seen... no... **felt** such a display? And he harmed no one and nothing before calling it all back in..."

Two sets of remarkably similar grey eyes rolled in tandem at the Potions Master's words. As if he'd seen the expressions of disrespect, Severus flicked two specific fingers over his shoulder.

"Of course, we knew the prophecy had named Potter. But even after six years of teaching the boy, and all those infernal private lessons, I had never seen such tangible evidence of his sheer raw power." Finally looking up from his aggitated rant, Snape glared at each Malfoy in turn. "And neither of you can honestly tell me you weren't impressed, intimidated by that show. So do try not to strain yourselves by acting so blase`."

Lucius sniffed in response, while his son emitted a less dignified snort. "Well, you two work out how you're going to kiss his Gryffindor arse. I think I shall prepare a plateful of sandwiches and await our tempermental Gryffie in the bedroom. Do try to have your heads removed from your posteriors before your next confrontation with Potter. Personally, I would like to continue living for the indefinite future."

~ * ~


	4. Chapters Ten through Twelve

  
Author's notes: Draco has hidden talents, Harry has an explosion, and the elders react accordingly.  


* * *

All disclaimers, notes, and random facts can be found on the first page of this story.

~ * ~

**Chapter Ten : You Learn Something New Every Day**

Leaving the two befuddled wizards behind him, Draco slowly made his way back to the room he shared with the Boy-Who-Lived. 

He didn't expend much effort in stiffling his laughter, as his mind kept going back to the expressions on his father's face. Even better was the look of horrified astonishment from his Head of House. What did they expect from the Boy Wonder? If Potter could fragment Voldemort's soul from his body _as an infant_ , then surely his more mature magic could project during fits of emotional upheaval. 

Approaching his bed, the Slytherin Prince took note of his roommate's belongings. They weren't much at all, especially in light of Potter's idolized status. A battered trunk with the bare minimum of charms for enlargement, his beloved broomstick, an owl cage, and the standard set of books and student apparel. Where were the trinkets from his childhood? Every one of his fellow Slytherins carried at least a few items of comfort from home. A small pillow, an extra blanket, even a stuffed animal or treasured storybook. And yet, none of those items were present in the Gryffindor's trunk. He wouldn't have cast invisibility charms on them, would he? Draco thought not, as such a maneuovre was decidely un-Gryffindorish.

If the young Malfoy didn't know better, he would find most puzzling the lack of correspondence from Potter's relatives. Unfortunately, he did know a bit about those... Muggles. Regardless of popular assumption, Draco was far from anti-Muggle. Of course, he had appearences to uphold, else he be victimized by his fellow snakes. But he fully understood how so many of his classmates from non-magical families excelled once the initial culture shock had worn off. In this case, however, he refused to reign in the justifiable derision he felt for his rival's relatives. They were just as bad as most Death Eaters in their hatred of anything 'abnormal' by their standards.

"Find anything interesting, Malfoy?" 

The blond only just managed to withhold his initial shock from appearing on his face, working hard to maintain a calm facade. Standing in the open doorway, wearing only a towel wrapped loosely across his hips, was the aforementioned Gryffindor. Nothing in his tone of voice announced his current mental state, but the inner fire that had previously blazed in his eyes was dampened to a healthier level.

"I was simply trying to get to know you a bit better, Potty. After all, this is the most... familiar we've been, outside of our respective circles, since that first meeting at Malkins' robe shop." Smirk firmly in place, Draco watched his classmate carefully for any signs that his teasingly veiled request for information would be rebuffed. Or worse.

A brief flash of emerald flicked across the Slytherin's face before falling to search his trunk, apparently satisfied by whatever he had gleaned. "All you had to do was ask, Ferret-boy. Besides," he began, his words muffled by a t-shirt, "it's not like you'd find out much from my school things."

"Too true. You have an abysmal amount of personal effects, Master Potter," the blond's voice took on a high pitched whine, reminiscent of certain house elves. "Surely Master Potter has more to offer this humble serpent than the meager offerings in his luggage, hmm?"

The brunet giggled as he dragged up his jeans, muttering under his breath, "Guess I shrank these a bit too much. Oh well, they'll just have to do for now." Leaning back against the wall, he used both hands to fasten the zip. Harry expelled heavily, then groaned. "Oh bloody buggering hell! Forgot to put my shoes on first. Sorry blondie, but you're just going to have to deal with my naked feet today. I'm not going through all that effort to get my pants done up again, just to appease your delicate sensibilities."

An indelicate snort was his only indication that the Slytherin wouldn't mind him going shoe-less.

"Fine then, you were snooping through my things and didn't find whatever you were looking for. Go ahead and ask." Although his words were flippant, Harry's face had blanked into an expression that Draco had come to label as his 'getting ready for interrogation' mode.

"Nothing in particular, Potter, so don't go defensive on me." Stretching out on his bed, Draco leaned against the wall, sprawled lazily in the least aggressive position he could imagine. "You Gryffies probably get to know each other by asking all sorts of innane questions, taking months to accumulate information about each other. We Slytherins tend to do all our... research through sneakier means."

"Uh huh. I can't see Neville ransacking my trunk after lights out," Harry snickered, then flounced across his own bed on his stomach with a soft grunt. "Note to self: these pants have got to be enlarged before wearing them again."

It was the blond's turn to snicker, barely able to speak through his amusement. "Ha! If you want to keep Snape and my father off-balanced, you should wear them every day."

This suggestion confused Harry for all of ten seconds, then his blush lit the room. "Oh come on, your dad's gotta be straight! Otherwise how'd he have you? And Snape? That's just... weird!" He didn't miss Draco's eyes rolling dramatically. 

"Potter, it's times like this when your Muggle upbringing is most obvious." The Slytherin's tone changed from amused to serious as he sat up straighter against the wall. "Forget what your relatives taught you about the rights and wrongs of sexuality. In our world, you love whomever you love. If you're lucky enough to find that one -- or maybe two -- person who completes you, whose magic blends perfectly with yours, who you can love with everything they've got, what does it matter if their plumbing is inside or out? It's a bit more difficult to have children with same sex couples, but that also accounts for our lower birthrate compared to non-magicals."

Harry crossed his arms into a pillow, lowering his head against them. His next question was barely heard and rather shaky. "So it's... not... _abnormal_ to like guys as well as girls?"

In all the years of their mutual rivalry, never had Harry been so relieved to hear his classmate's derisive snort. "It's as normal as anything else. As long as you don't harbor some attraction to hippogriffs or hinkypucks, most people won't think twice about your preferences. And if you _do_ get off on hippogriffs, I want first rights to the photos."

And that was just so undeniably Draco Malfoy. Harry let out a long sigh he hadn't realized he'd been holding, burrowed his face deeper into his arms, and allowed himself to really relax for a moment. Finally, he lifted up to meet the watching grey eyes. "Alright then, if I ever form a romantic attachment to one of Hagrid's pets, I'll make sure you're notified for the photo shoot."

While the Gryffindor let out his tension in a short bark of laughter, Draco simply raised one elegant eyebrow and upped his smirk a notch. "Deal."

"So, on to more serious topics. Sort of." Chewing his bottom lip as he worked out how to ask what he really wanted to know, especially in light of this new revelation about magical relationships, Harry peeked through his tangled bangs at his classmate. "How long have your dad and Snape been... together? Unless I'm totally off and it's just years of knowing each other and-"

Draco held up a hand to halt the insuing babble. "Relax, Potter, you're making a spectacle of yourself. As far as I know, they've been 'friends with benefits' since their last year together at Hogwarts. That would be Severus' fifth year, as Father was two classes above him."

"Ah."

"Is that all? 'Ah'?"

"Well, what more do you expect? I'm over here trying to process, system rapidly approaching overload. Not only is it ok for me to like... anyone human-ish... but my least favorite professor and my least favorite classmate's father have this _thing_... And now I'm having to work really hard at _not_ getting all these mental pictures of the two of them togther-together."

"What are you, twelve? And I must tell you, Boy Wonder, that they make a rather impressive picture. All that contrast, black and blond hair twined together..." Draco's voice trailed off into memories, his eyes unfocussing as he thought back to just two days ago when he walked in on the older wizards locked in a very passionate embrace. "Personally, I prefer the softer curves of the female form, but it would take a straighter man than I to not be effected by the chemistry between those two."

Eventually, his eyes would uncross. Harry felt sure that if he could just erase the images of ebony and silver, naturally laid out over emerald satin pillows, he might soon be able to will away the heat of arousal low in his stomach. Think about Ginny! She's soft and curvy and all that lovely red hair, and she always smells so good. You've got a great girl there, Potter, so no more fantasizing about a pair of wizards twice your age!

The Slytherin Prince could practically hear those traitorous thoughts running rampant through Harry's head. He wasn't sure whether to cackle maniacally, or to hoard the information for future use. Or maybe he could give the clueless Gryffie a little shove in the right direction. Obviously, the Boy-Who-Lived was more interested than he'd like to be. Draco let his classmate slowly simmer in embarassment as he considered his next move.

A soft whisper broke his train of thought. "Hey Draco... I've got a girlfriend. For now, at least. Don't... could you not say anything to anyone for awhile? At least til I figure out what... everything. Y'know?"

Against his every natural inclination, the blond tilted his head forward. "For now, your secret's safe with me. After all, Potter, it's not like you have to make a decision on your orientation today. Or at all."

~ * ~

**Chapter Eleven : Old Dogs, Older Tricks**

Grey eyes were trained on the doorway, even though it had been empty for several long minutes. Lucius felt the passing impulse to kick himself for not taking into account the relative touchiness that most adolescents were prone to display, guaranteeing a heightened sense of paranoia in their new house guest. Couple that with years of being kept in the dark by his guardians, teachers, and that meddlesome coot... it was no wonder the Boy-Who-Lived had practically exploded. 

Of course, Lord Malfoy felt no true remorse over the unfortunate situation. It was only proper that lesser mortals wait upon their superiors for whatever tidbits of information they were deamed worthy to possess. A sound similar to his son's snort of derision escaped Lucius' full lips before he could correct it. He was almost surprised to find a half-filled snifter of brandy still in his hand. Funny how one takes things for granted. Like the availability of a fine liquor on demand. His upper crust mannerisms shot to hell already, Lucius slung back the amber liquid and drained the glass in one long swallow, allowing his eyelids to flutter closed in pleasure at the steady burn down his throat.

When he opened his eyes, it came no surprise to find his friend's gaze resting heavily upon him. "Severus, you have something to say?"

"Hmm, no." The Potions Master's body flowed smoothly from across the room, until Severus stood directly in front of the blond. "What more could be said after that little performance." He took his friend's glass and placed it on a nearby table, then stepped forward until their bodies came into contact. "It is always a delight to watch you consume any form of beverage. A truly sensual experience, regardless of your chosen drink."

Neither wizard spoke another word before lips mashed together in heated passion. Snape was quite familiar with his own body's reactions to life-threatening scenarios -- it demanded affirmation of continuing existance as soon as possible, and how convenient for him that his part-time lover was present. That their recently survived danger was their own fault could wait to be pondered. After the immediate need was satisfied.

Lucius waved his hand, calling on a handy wandless, wordless spell to remove their clothing. At the same time, Severus transfigured the short couch into a more comfortable bed using a similar spell. Years of practice made their motions both subtle and perfectly choreographed. Within minutes, the two men found themselves tangled in a heady clutch, hands rapidly stroking heated skin, tiny beads of perspiration shimmering and easing the slide of legs, chests, arms.

Gasping a quick breath away from the Malfoy patriarch's mouth, Severus' normally silky voice was reduced to a dark chocolate rasp, "Whose turn is it to receive, Luc?"

The response was immediate, and far from expected. "Does it matter?"

"No, I suppose not." Nibbling along the smooth column of Lucius' pale neck, Severus considered his own desires briefly. "I want to be inside you, Luc. Fast, hard, now."

Wordless magic takes a modicum of control that was far beyond either wizard by that point. Luckily, the blond found his mouth still abandoned -- the pleasant ache of teeth prints kept him from complaining about this loss -- and he quickly cast the triplet of spells that had become the staple of their private entertainment. Cleansed, oiled and stretched, Lucius grabbed his lover's arms and pulled Severus on top as the blond rolled onto his back. With two words, he conveyed his own desperate need for connection. "Yes, now."

Neither man thought beyond their joining. Whether the door was locked and silenced mattered nothing at that point. Somewhere in the darkest recesses of Lucius' mind, a tiny voice scolded his indiscretion, warning that there were two teenaged young men just down the hall. He firmly told it to sod off as his lover's thick length pierced him, settling into place with the ease of long years of experience. Nothing ever felt as good, as *right*, as Severus' delicious cock pushing its way into his body. It honestly didn't matter if the dark wizard used his arse or mouth, for Lucius was just as satisfied with either.

A fact he felt needed to be confirmed once again. His cultured, well-trained voice cracked in the most embarassing way as he praised his lover's erotic talents. "Gods! Severus... so perfect *gasp* every time. *moan* Hard and fast, yes?"

Beyond words, the Potions Master sought to please his lover's desire for a rough ride. His lips and teeth latched onto the blond's earlobe even as he began pistoning into Lucius' body. For Severus, there was nothing else in the world quite like the exquisite lines of his long-time friend's form. The greedy, grasping arse that pulled him deep inside til he thought they must be merged into one being. That luscious mouth with its agile tongue that could drive him past insanity in an embarassingly brief period of time. He forced back such thoughts, knowing that to dwell on his lover's perfection would only speed the descent into completion. Severus wasn't ready to finish the act so soon. He had a lover to satisfy first.

Of course, Lucius should have known to expect something along these lines. When left to arrange their 'bed', Severus was notorious for his precision on the appropriate height from floor to mattress. Yet even as the black-haired man pulled him onto a pile of pillows, Lucius marvelled at his friend's thorough preparations. The transformed bed was at a perfect height to allow the Potions Master to stand in front of it, his prick easily sliding in and out and sending the blond through all seven levels of heaven. 

And if he got a bit... vocal... well, he was a Malfoy. And Malfoys answered only to themselves. And dear gods, it had been entirely too long since Sev hit that delicious spot! He heard a distant chuckle, but decided to ignore it in favor of pushing his body back against the pulsing column of flesh currently plundering his arse in the most delightful way. What did it matter if the Minister himself walked through that door? As long as wonderful, brilliant Sev never stopped prodding his prostate, all would be right with the world. And maybe that's what was wrong with Voldie -- he needed a good coring too, yes?

Like father, like son. Severus couldn't help himself, laughing softly against his lover's writhing body. The only time one would chance to hear the unflappable Lord Malfoy speak in any way other than the most correct was when he was flat on his back (or on his knees, or spread over a convenient piece of furniture, or shoved against a wall) taking his -- Severus', and only Severus'! -- cock deep inside his wonderful bum. When the blond topped, he could always maintain a certain level of control of his words, saying the most scandalous things in his velvety voice. But let him bottom, and Luc was a babbling, bubbling fountain of disconnected thoughts. It did a man's ego good.

With their combined enthusiasm from the Potter lad's show of power, neither wizard was likely to last long. Not that they minded a quick fuck, but their liasons tended to be something like competitions -- who could last the longest, drive the other into the depths of sensual overload first, lose all control fastest. By mutual consent, no such games were necessary. 

Pale legs pulled slim hips closer, tighter into grasping heat. Knees threatened to buckle, shaking with the race to release. Severus braced himself on his lover's creamy chest, twisting nipples brutally just like the blond preferred. Lucius held his own dripping erection in one hand, squeezing in time with each thrust, while his other tugged on black pubic curls. When Snape leant forward to suck on the blond's neck, Lucius had perfect access to reach between their shifting bodies to roll his lover's testicles. In response, teeth dug into his flesh, almost directly atop the jugular vein -- Lucius howled his approval, his grasp tightening almost painfully around Severus' ballsac. 

Erogenous zones exploited so thoroughly, it came as no surprise when they erupted less than ten minutes later, replete and finally relaxed. Adrenaline spent, Severus' mind cleared enough to form a coherent thought that had niggled at his brain not a quarter hour ago.

"Luc... what _exactly_ was the mission that Albus discussed with you?"

"Hmm, you definitely don't spend enough time in the afterglow." Nuzzling against the sparsely-haired chest above him, Lucius thought back to his last conversation with the former Headmaster. The overall mood of their discussion was simple to pinpoint (tense and aggitated), but the message? "His exact words, I believe, were: 

_'Lucius, all I ask is for you to work closely with Severus. Make sure Harry is prepared for the coming battle as thoroughly as possible, using any means necessary. Yes, any means. If you must teach him the darkest magic in existence in order for him to annihilate Tom Riddle's body and soul for all time, then I expect you to do just that. But you must also be there for the dear boy. Our Harry has had an incredibly hard life, and he will need someone to show him that not everything is dark and dreary. If the occassion calls for it, you and Severus must be there to guide him in every way. Man to man, wizard to wizard. Answer his questions, teach him what he needs to know, and above all, make sure his spirit is unbroken. The very emotions that Riddle lacks, our Harry has in abundance. It is why he will succeed where all others have failed. I charge you with Harry Potter's health, education, and happiness. In all things.'_ "

"And yet again, the old coot must speak in riddles. One would think, in light of our shaky situation, he might deign to issue more concise orders." Pausing to press a last, lingering kiss to pale lips, Severus rolled onto his side before finalizing his thoughts. "I was told much the same thing, with only one glaring difference. A reminder that Mr. Potter is not his father, and as such is not deserving of whatever petty revenge I might see fit to inflict upon him."

Any further musings were interrupted when Lucius rolled against his lover's chest, licked a path from collar to ear, and whispered, "Mmhmm. Sev'rus, turn out the lights and draw a blanket. I fancy a nap after that delightful shag."

~ * ~

**Chapter Twelve : Sulking for Fun & Profit, or How to Win Friends & Schmooz People**

What do two young men do when shut in a room together, without the call of schoolwork or outside influences? As any parent could tell, it boils down to two things. They talk about sex, or eat. Or both at the same time. Such was the case with Draco and Harry. The too-tight jeans were unzipped to allow room for the plate of sandwiches and crisps, while the blond moved over to his classmate's bed to more easily share the bounty. 

"Damn, I must've used more energy than I thought back there," Harry muttered around a roast beef on rye. "Or else you've added something to these to make them taste better."

"Don't fool yourself, Potty. I wouldn't go to the extra effort of poisoning you if I plan on eating from the same plate."

"Hmm, yeah. Not unless you had the antidote in your pocket."

"Oh just shut up and pass me one of the ham with muenster."

And so it went for a good half hour. Of course, neither young wizard kept their mind unoccupied, nor were they entirely centered on the food. Harry's mind kept coming back to his most recent discovery -- that most of the wizarding world was bisexual. Sex plus teenaged male equals hours of entertainment.

He still wasn't sure how to broach the subject, and could be found opening his mouth to speak only to shut it quickly as he lost his nerve. After several attempts, his roommate had had enough.

"Just ask, ok? I can't read your mind-" muttering under his breath something about 'easily' "-and I'm not one of your Gryffindork friends. A little help would be nice, then I'll try to answer as clearly as possible for your infantile brain to absorb."

"Ha bloody ha, Ferret-face. And yeah, it's pretty obvious that you aren't one of my housemates. I doubt you'd look good in red anyways." As usual, when the subject came to interpersonal relations, Harry's voice began to crack. "So. Have you... I mean, is there any *cough* guy that you've, y'know, done things with?"

The Slytherin's eyes pierced his school rival, seeming to search for any sign of derision or taunting. Although the Gryffindor had developed a decent mask, his current facial expression was easy to discern -- curious, embarassed, confused, with a touch of 'please don't be kidding with me' thrown in. Draco decided to drop all pretense of his usual haughtiness and simply answer the question at face value.

"Remember, Potter, I told you earlier that I prefer girls. But to answer your question, yes, there was one..." Grey eyes clouded over in remembered happiness. "I met Jean-Paul two summers ago in Madrid, on the last vacation my parents took together. Naturally, they spent most of their time arguing, so I went out by myself. The beaches were crowded, of course, but there was a decent enough library. Mmm, he was sitting all the way at the back, in the potions section, with a mountain of books piled on the table in front of him. He was gathering information for his final year potions project, one almost as ambitious as the Wolfsbane Potion that Severus came up with."

"Snape created the Wolfsbane Potion?!"

Eyes rolling at the interruption, Draco whapped the brunet across the back of his head. "Yes Potter, keep up with the rest of the class. Anyway, as I was saying," he threw a glare at Harry before continuing to reminisce, "we started talking about his thesis, and our respective schools. He went to Beauxbatons, as quite a few on the Continent do, and it was interesting hearing about the different techniques for teaching standard courses. His eyes lit up every time he mentioned potions though, so much like Severus in that respect. Pretty blue eyes, with just a hint of green around the outside. And hair the color of a late pumpkin, baked til the skin just melts off. Never thought I'd go for a redhead, but there you have it. We spent most of the summer together, and he taught me... alot."

Watching the Ice Prince practically melting over a memory had an unusual effect on Harry. His pants got more uncomfortable, not from the speaker, but the topic. Sure, Ginny's a redhead too. That had to be it. Nothing to do with how soft Draco's face got when he was truly pleased, or how his eyes lit up and showed so many different emotions when he let down his guard. Harry knew he wasn't lusting over the Slytherin -- it was the whole idea of being with a guy. Maybe he could get Ginny to take Polyjuice? But which guy would he choose... Someone older and tall. His head cracked against the plaster as he jerked into the wall, shaking him from such thoughts. It might be alright, but **he was with Ginny** dammit! Must remember that, Potter. No more fantasies.

Yet even as he admonished himself, repeatedly and with much vigor, his mind dived off into its own direction. Somehow Draco's words became more vibrant, tangible. The descriptions so thorough that he could feel a ghosted cheek brushing his, the stubble definitely not from his girlfriend. 

The blond was hardly unaware of the effects his words had on his roommate. To the contrary, it amused him a great deal. In more detail than he'd originally intended, Draco droned on in his best bedroom voice, watchful of the brunet's closing eyelids as they fluttered shut, the rapid breathing as dream-sleep caught him in a web of lustful fantasies. 

_hands, much larger than any girl's, gently cupped his face and drew him toward wind-chapped lips. the scent of clean **male** and fresh sweat where he had only experienced a soft perfume before. instead of holding his love, he was the one held in strong, protective arms. however satisfying those few stolen kisses with his girlfriend had been, they held nothing to the intoxication of this man's talented lips. _

_a second set of hands carefully, efficiently disrobed him, caressing each inch of skin as it was uncovered. the fragrance of masculine bodies doubled, overwhelming his senses with the addition of the fading aroma of herbs. one strong tongue lathed a path up his neck before latching onto his earlobe, while the second set a torturous path across his collar bones._

_crying out. he grasped front and back, pulling his assailants closer. almost immediately he felt their erections against his stomach and arse. experimentally twisting against them, he heard the most wonderful groans of approval, before he was overcome by sensation as they redoubled their onslaught._

_prodding where nothing had ever been before, a fine line of heat building in his arse as -- was that a finger? two? -- he was gently opened. hands held his hips steady, those perfect lips settling on his navel, that tongue smarttongue dipping in and swirling around, mimicking the events to come. a third finger made its way inside, all three twisting and pressing and stars explosions so bright!_

_everything magnified by a million, nerves on overload, dunno if he can take anymore cap'n. hard and hot and thick and howinhell did **that** fit **there**? then his own aching length enclosed in the tightest grip he'd ever felt, and dearest gods who knew it could be this good. only thing to do, wrap one arm around a chest and the other back across a hip and hold on til the end of the world. _

_building and destroying, the inside of a star would be cooler, he couldn't possibly survive. but it gets better as he feels the jets of warm fluid filling his hand -- and when had he grabbed another man's erection? -- then almost blacking out when a similar burst soaks his insides. no one moves much, except to twist into sleepy kisses and murmurs of love and devotion_

_why had no one told him it could be like this_

At first, Draco's primary intention was to shock his classmate. It wouldn't be terribly difficult, seeing how sheltered Potter was. But after watching his reactions to a few simple triggering words, the blond felt a voyeuristic delight in subtly shifting the dreams into something more. Something that could be. That maybe, possibly, had to be. 

Few people remembered that more than one of the best Seers had come from his family -- and Draco could See, important and necessary, that the famed Boy-Who-Lived would need the proper support of a mature relationship. Of course, when he Saw _who_ was to support his former nemesis... he tumbled off the bed in an untidy heap. It was one thing to See, and another to decide how he should go about reprogramming all three of the thick-headed prats.

~ * ~


	5. Chapters Thirteen through Fifteen

  
Author's notes: Draco is bored, the obligatory shopping trip, and Severus proves that even the manliest of men can be "drama queens".  


* * *

All disclaimers, notes and random information can be found on the first page of this story.

~ * ~

**Chapter Thirteen : Danger! Bored Blond Ahead!**

Not everyone was born with a built-in radar for danger. Certainly a case could be made for Harry Potter having one, specific for Dark magic and Dark wizards. But when it came to him sensing a prank, Harry was as clueless as the next person. 

Deep down he knew better than to allow himself to fall asleep without setting up his personal wards. And hadn't he, just an hour before, reminded himself to be very careful once his yearmate fully woke up? Of course there was that little scene in the study to distract him, followed by some shocking revelations and food and more revelations. Being completely honest with himself, Harry felt he could make a decent case of temporary stupidity.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, he had to admit that Draco's sense of fashion really wasn't that bad. In a demented sort of way. He might even keep the earrings and tattoo. And his hair had never been this tame before, even if it was streaked with silver and gold glitter. Counting his blessings, Harry was glad that it wasn't green or orange or (Merlin forbid) flourescent pink. 

Another burst of self-honesty forced him to concede that the Slytherin could've been much nastier in his justifiable retaliation pranking. Not that Harry had been particularly visious either, but still.

Twin fangs in gleaming silver pierced both earlobes, with drops of opals hanging from each tip in a fair imitation of venom. Not too shabby, Malfoy. Winding its way from his right collar bone to right wrist, a gorgeous cobra rested just under his skin. Its flared hood covered his entire upper arm and most of his shoulder, leaving the bulk of its body to curl tightly around the remaining surface of his right forearm. Of course, the Slytherin probably fudged on its coloration a bit, since Harry couldn't remember any species of cobra that was a varigated mix of purple, green and deep red. A bit flashy, but still he liked the overall effect.

As for his hair, Harry decided that he could live with it for the time being. After all, it wasn't flying all over the place like this. So it was sparkly and streaked, he could deal. All he needed to turn into a completely new person was to lose the glasses. Maybe Snape had a potion, or Lucius knew of a charm? Hell, he could probably visit an optometrist for contacts if it came down to that. If all went well, he might be able to talk his trio of Slytherins into a shopping frenzy too.

Satisfied with his new appearance and tentative plans, Harry left the bathroom in his melted-and-poured-into jeans with a snug emerald green t-shirt. He had remembered to slip into his trainers this time, and thankfully didn't need the ugly, crumbling belt he was used to wearing to hold up Dudley's tent-like pants. Blushing as he thought of his pants, and even more as to where they currently were (still in the bottom of his trunk)... There was just no way he could possibly wear his boxers under these jeans.

Immediately outside in the hallway, he found the culprit doubled over in laughter. Harry leaned against the wall and waited for his classmate to regain his composure. Or at least to look up. The Slytherin hadn't truly seen him since perpetrating his prank, and had no way of knowing what Harry's reactions would be. And seeing how the blond had found at least one male attractive, he might just be a decent measurement of how Harry's overall outfit looked. 

Another round of giggles spewed from pale lips, and Harry ran out of patience. "Hey Draco, would you take a deep breath and calm down a sec? I'd like your opinion before the old folks join the party."

Wiping his eyes with the back of his hands, the blond took several deep gulps of air, braced himself on his knees, and glanced up at his victim through his bangs. His jaw dropped a few inches as he took in his rival's new appearance, and for several long moments his brain refused to function further than 'Pretty man. Want pretty.' Eventually, sanity regained its hold and forced Draco to wipe the drool off his chin.

"Y'know Potter, you don't clean up half bad." And just wait til Father and Severus catch a glimpse! Mentally wringing his hands in wicked triumph, the Slytherin motioned Harry to turn around. "Just to make sure you've smoothed everything out."

Harry snickered but did as requested. Only after his arse was shaking in Malfoy's direction did he mention, "I shouldn't have that problem. Left them in my trunk."

What is the sound of one jaw falling? Wonderful, glorious, delightful, and purely sensual victory. If he could have this much of a reaction from the younger, less experienced Slytherin... he might just stand a chance at shocking the older wizards. For some reason, that prospect appealled to him a great deal. His cheeks flamed as he remembered parts of his very vivid dream, and his subconscious happily provided two familiar faces for his unseen lovers.

"Alright then, time to move along. Uh, Draco..." Harry didn't know how to ask, stumbling across the point, "how mad, or upset, or... whatever... were they. I mean, after I... left, and all..."

"Pul- _lease_ Potter, do try to sound your age. Or at least your species." The blond threw his arm across Harry's shoulders, half dragging him toward the study. "I shouldn't worry too much about Father and Severus. After all, they are responsible for your health and education this summer. I suspect that means you are to survive, and probably not be cursed. No more than necessary, that is."

The evil gleam in those grey eyes almost had Gryffindor's Golden Boy running for the hills. He knew, way down in the bottom of his psyche, that Professor Snape would never go so far as to actually kill him, but he didn't have that much confidence in the senior Malfoy. Since his arrival, he had put on a decent front -- never appear weak in the presence of an enemy -- and in terms of sheer power, he knew he could outmatch all three Slytherins. But they knew spells and curses and all sorts of methods of torture, not to mention whatever 'Evil of the Month' was popular in Death Eater circles. 

Harry was so caught up in his never-ending cycle of worry that he almost missed his classmate's gasp of surprise. Or laughter, he couldn't tell which. 

Training his eyes in the direction of the blond's gaze, he understood Draco's reaction. On a newly transfigured couch, tangled in one insufficient blanket, completely (enticingly) nude, lay Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy. Their arms and legs wrapped around each other so thoroughly that only the difference in skin tone decided which appendage belonged to which wizard. Their hair spread across a (green satin) pillow, intertwined in appealing contrast. 

Flashes of dream/memory echoed through Harry's mind as he watched the older wizards sleep. His every instinct ordered him to rip off his clothes and join the pair, dive between their bodies and bury himself in the safety of their arms. Rational thought expressed a different command, rooting his feet in their spot and mentally drenching him in ice water. This was his dreaded Potions instructor, and the man who gave Ginny a cursed diary, who almost got her killed! Instinct argued that neither man was what he seemed, and wouldn't it be nice to dig out the truth about them? 

Draco studied his classmate. Over the years, he had spent more than his fair share of energy in learning as much about the Boy-Who-Lived as was possible. He probably had more solid evidence than any Ministry file, more working knowledge than their respective teachers. The inner cogs and gears of Potter's mind were less clear to him, but Draco had a fair idea what this latest fuss was about.

Speaking softly in an attempt not to alert the older wizards, he nudged Harry's arm to get his full attention. "Yes, we seem to have joined them at a bad time. Make up your mind -- we can go raid the kitchen, find a deck of cards, or do summer homework... or, you can walk into that room and take care of this morning's little problem. One way or another, you three will have to discuss the incident eventually. It's up to you as to when that happens." 

The blond pulled Harry back out into the hall, shutting the door quietly behind them. "Listen, Harry. You're fairly open-minded for being Muggle-raised, but you're going to have to deal with true wizarding culture this summer. And don't take offense, but spending time with the Weasleys won't give you a good grasp of what that means. There's a difference between having a magical household and observing the entire culture. You're going to get an eyefull, in more ways than one, before next term starts. Consider this your first step. You can walk in there and request their attention, discuss this morning's... conflict. Or you can put it off til they rejoin us, fully dressed and with their masks back in place. If you want my opinion, you'd do better to catch them offguard, sets you in a higher bargaining position from the start."

Harry listened and heard what Draco meant, on several different levels. He wasn't sure he wanted to cross that line, and he felt uncomfortable in cheating on Ginny like that. But this feeling went beyond temptation, well past enthrallment, to what he imagined everyone else felt when under the Imperius curse. Sure, he could throw off the curse, but this compulsion felt different somehow. Like he should investigate more before making that decision.

Now he just needed to figure out if he wanted to make that decision before or after the two sexiest Slytherins he'd ever seen woke and covered their gorgeous bodies with miles of robes. The mental voice of reason gave a great, shuddering sigh of defeat, muttered something about Ginny, and retreated. Harry's face flushed pink as he nudged his classmate's arm, then opened the study door and stepped inside.

~ * ~

**Chapter Fourteen : Facing More Than Just the Facts**

There's nothing quite like an energetic round of sex to make a person sleep soundly. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why Severus Snape had chosen to spend much of the 'Voldie years' celebate -- a spy can scarcely afford to lower their guards long enough to enjoy such recreation.

At the back of his sleep-befuddled brain, the Potions Master recognized the door opening, the sounds of voices lowered in whispers, the door closing, followed by slightly louder but muffled voices. He gave every effort toward waking to investigate, really, but his body just didn't seem to want to cooperate. Severus decided to blame Lucius for his current state of lethargy.

The blond in question was far deeper in sleep than his lover, blissfully dreaming of dark hair and strong hands. And if the occassional flash of sparkling green eyes showed up, well, he was the only person to see such things.

Snape had just managed to excavate himself from the tangled blanket (and Lucius' arms -- the man slept like an octopus!) when the study door opened once again. With his pants in hand, the rest of his body bare as the day he was born, Severus' natural reaction to the vision entering the study was evident for the world to see. Or in this case, for Harry Potter. He had known prior to accepting the summer's mission that the Gryffindor had grown into an attractive young man, but this... this was well beyond such a simple accolade. Stunning, superb, exquisite, a veritable work of art. His treacherous body refused to acknowledge the atheletic events of the previous hour, voting to offer a standing ovation to his student's new look.

Nervously nibbling his lower lip, the subject of such intense scrutiny stood just inside the doorway, torn between fleeing in panic and dropping to his knees in front of his instructor. Who would've guessed that the (not-so) greasy git had a body like _that_? And with decent recovery time too. Harry had to stop himself from purring in satisfaction, even as his ego blossomed under that intense gaze.

"Sorry to interrupt, Severus, but... about this morning?"

Spoken softly, the question was still enough to rouse the sleeping blond. He reached for his lover and came up lacking one warm body. Opening a single eye, he quickly found the escaped wizard. "Sev, you're not where you belong." 

"Never let it be said that your son's ability to pout was inherited from his mother, Luc." With fewer inhibitions than his student had suspected, the Potions Master tossed his clothes back on the floor and resumed his position on the transfigured bed. "You might want to wake up a bit and join the conversation, Lucius. It would seem that our Mr. Potter has a few more surprises in store for us."

Hearing the name of the young man he'd just been dreaming about, the elder Malfoy opened both eyes and searched the room, targetting the Gryffindor with wide eyes. In purely erotic tones, Lucius' voice sent shivers down Harry's spine. "Well, well, well, I must say that you clean up rather nicely, Harry. To what do we owe this pleasure, hmm?"

The Boy-Who-Lived stood, dumbfounded, and watched in helpless fascination as Lucius indulged in a long, feline stretch. The too-small blanket fell further, allowing him to see every last bit of the blond's attributes. A tiny, giggling section of his brain noted that, yes indeed, Lucius Malfoy was a true blond. Harry tried squelching the voice before he joined it in nervous laughter.

"I, uh, just wanted to talk about this morning's... episode. If you're up to it," he stammered, then blushed deeper when he caught the innuendo of his own words. "I mean, if you've got the time. Not that you're busy right now, but you look like you could be soon." He groaned loudly, and buried his face in his hands. "And I'll just shut up, shall I? Let me know when you're both prepared to dress me down for this morning's outburst. I'll find a convenient rock to hide under til then."

Harry turned to leave the room, only to have a warm hand land on his shoulder. He couldn't face either older wizard just yet, but he did pause to let them have their say.

"There's no need for you to leave, Harry." Gone was the stern professor voice, replaced with the richest of dark chocolates, and Harry felt like melting along with it. "Please find a seat and we shall endeavor to discuss today's events."

Eyes still focused on anywhere but the Slytherins' direction, Harry mumbled as he found a chair on the far side of the room, "Dunno how you expect me to concentrate on a _discussion_ when you're both starkers. Enough to scar me for life. Or ruin my pants. Can't afford that, not til you let me go shopping. Like that's gonna happen, not likely to have the chance with strips torn out of my hide. Can just see it now -- yes hello, Madam Malkin, sorry but Harry's going to drip blood all over your fall selection, oh please pay it no mind, we'll just find some dark red material so it doesn't show too badly."

"Harry, sit."

It was a testament to Severus' will power that he kept himself from looking over Potter's head to engage Lucius in one of their silent communications that the boy objected to so much. With what little dignity a naked, partially aroused man could claim, he summoned a tray of tea and passed cups to his companions.

Harry sucked down half of his tea in one gulp, trying to ignore the random flashes from his dream. Every move the older wizards made seemed to recall another scene, another series of touches. The feel of ghosted fingers trailing along his back, phantom lips at his neck, crisp hair across his buttocks -- each sent his frazzled nerves on edge.

"Maybe this should wait. It was presumptuous of me to intrude just now..." His attempt toward the door was thwarted by a single, powerful locking spell. "Oh come on!"

His protest fell on deaf ears.

Thanks to the timely intake of strong caffeine, Lucius was alert enough to fully appreciate the young brunet's altered appearance. He wasn't about to let the Gryffindor escape so soon. Noticing Severus' interest hadn't waned any either, the blond smirked and decided to see how far he could push Harry.

"This is quite a good look for you, Mr. Potter. I take it that my son had something to do with your new fashion statement? He has a knack with decorative charms."

Dazed and distracted by the masterpieces of Slytherin nudity, Harry answered in a slurred voice, "Hmm, yeah. I must've dozed off earlier. It's alright though, I kinda like it." He blinked twice, remembering that they couldn't see most of his tattoo. "Oh! The best part!" Shucking off his t-shirt, Harry missed the immediate darkening of their eyes, both sets focused on his toned chest. He ran a hand lovingly over the cobra's head, almost feeling it hiss in pleasure. "Isn't he just beautiful?" he asked in wonder.

"Oh quite."

"Indeed."

He also missed the matching expressions of lust, enraptured by the undulating coils of his new 'pet'. "How hard would it be to make him permenant? And maybe add some protective and defensive charms?"

Long years of teaching had Severus answering the questions without breaking his concentration -- a good thing, since his eyes (and libido) were firmly affixed to the Gryffindor's pectoral muscles. "That should be a simple enough task, Harry. I suspect the charm Draco used is the standard first stage spell utilized by many body artists. You should decide which charms you wish to add before we cast the final spell to make the design permenant. Naturally, it can all be removed at a later time, but not without some difficulty. Be very certain that you wish to make such a long-term decision."

"It's not like everyone doesn't recognize me already. But if we can add some sort of trigger or alarm to go off when someone with dangerous intent is nearby... that could only be to the good."

Fully focused on petting his snake (not _that_ way, perverts!), Harry had yet to witness the interest of his hosts. Wistfulness heavy in his tone, he thought aloud, "Gonna have to find a name for such a handsome fellow. Something special, unique -- you're one of a kind, aren't you."

"Quite."

"Indeed."

Part of his subconscious insisted he respond to that. "Who hit instant replay?" Dragging his eyes away from his new adornment, Harry was confronted with every ounce of the Slytherins' rapt attention. "Woah, you two look... hungry. Want me to see about fixing dinner?"

Under his breath, Lucius let slip, "Only if you're the main course." This earned him a swat on the leg from his friend. Shaking off his 'hungry' thoughts, the blond redirected with, "Oh yes, perhaps you should. We can discuss this morning's show of power over a meal."

Severus rolled his eyes, muttering something about a 'bad save'. "Harry, please don't feel that you must cook every meal for us. I am quite adequate in the kitchen, a pleasant side effect of my preferred subject. Which reminds me... with your skills in the culinary arts, why do you perform so poorly in Potions? The two are closely related, after all."

Harry snickered at that assumption, idly stroking his shoulder and upper chest. "Well, if your snakes would stop 'helping' so much, maybe everyone else would do better in class."

"My... what?"

"Simple enough, Sev. Even the most perfect potion tends to react badly when random ingredients are added. And since we aren't supposed to use any 'foolish wand waving' in your classroom, we can't cast deflecting charms over our work stations. Your Slytherins seem to enjoy seeing how often they can cause explosions too."

From his vantage point, Lucius could see the tightening of his lover's muscles. Hoping to head off an argument, he ran his fingers along the stiff back. "Now Severus, he's got a point. I remember how much fun we used to have in sabotaguing the Gryffies' efforts."

"But surely I would have noticed that many indiscretions."

"Not necessarily, Sev."

Harry watched the byplay, partially relieved to have Lucius Malfoy (of all people!) on his side. And partly jealous of the evident level of intimacy between the two men. "He's right, sir. Besides, you've had more on your mind than watching out for pranks and such. With your permission, I would like to cast shields between the Slytherin and Gryffindor sides of the room though."

Only somewhat mollified, the Potions Master's temper settled down to a simmer. "If you will arrive at least ten minutes before each class, I will show you the appropriate spells for your problem. Understand that I still have a role to play."

"Of course," Harry cut off the dark wizard before he reverted back to evil professor mode. "We can't have you blowing your cover after so much effort to insure your place in the Inner Circle."

"Alright, that's enough." Both brunets turned to see Lucius glaring at them. "All topics of a serious or depressing nature will be forbidden until someone feeds me."

Harry stood and placed his cup on the tea tray, then turned to kneel at the blond's side of the bed. "Your every wish is my first imperative, m'lord."

It took more strength than Lucius typically required to prevent the lecherous moan that wanted to escape his throat. This new, self-assured and flirty Harry Potter was the thing of wet dreams. He made a vow to himself to corner Severus as soon as possible, so that they could discuss the best ways of seducing the reluctant hero.

Watching his friend's contemplative expression, it didn't take a genius for Severus to follow his train of thought. And while he agreed, in theory, now was not the time for such... urges.

"Harry, if you will meet me in the kitchen, I should like to see how our combined skills might work together. Have you any ideas as to what you might like to prepare?" 

He took a moment to consider what ingredients were available. "Well, there's some crab legs in the 'fridge. How about a seafood alfredo, with maybe angel hair pasta and a spinach salad?"

In response, both Slytherins' stomachs loudly applauded the suggestion. Laughing at their obvious embarassment, Harry waited for the locking charm to be lifted before heading toward the kitchen.

As the teen departed, Severus handed Lucius his clothes and began to put his own into place. "I know what you're thinking, Luc. Kindly allow me some time to consider Albus' directive before you make any concrete plans."

Dressed once more, the blond inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Of course, Severus. This latest development should not be acted upon in a hasty manner." He licked his lips and grinned most wickedly. "But you must admit, he _does_ clean up nicely."

Lucius barely managed to dodge the slap aimed at his arse as he sauntered into the hallway, laughing the entire time.

~ * ~

**Chapter Fifteen : Exchanging Ingredients**

Harry always felt at home in a kitchen. Besides cooking for the Dursleys, he had spent many pleasant hours in Hogwarts' kitchen with Dobby, as well as helping out at the Weasleys'. It wasn't like flying -- a natural talent -- cooking was something he had worked hard at learning.

Pulling out the proposed ingredients, he quickly started a creamy alfredo sauce in one pan and put water on to boil in another. The crab legs were already cooked, just needing to be heated up and added to sauce and pasta. Next he rummaged through the crisper for greens, pleased to find fresh spinach, carrots, sprouts, and chives.

By the time Severus joined him, Harry had the meal well in hand. The Potions Master huffed in mock annoyance, then proceeded to whip up a light vinagrette dressing. He sliced bread into thick portions, coated them with butter and minced garlic, and slid them into the oven to toast. Putting a kettle on for tea, he stepped back to watch his student's easy movements.

"You won't offend me if you taste test anything for seasoning," came a soft voice intruding on Severus' thoughts. Head bowed to the cutting board, Harry's even slicing never faltered.

"After having sampled your handiwork at breakfast, I am confident that you won't poison us, Harry." Severus watched each neat cut being made, concluding that he should pay closer attention to his class's behavior. "Actually, I was wondering about an entirely different matter."

The Gryffindor made an encouraging sound for his teacher to continue, never faltering in his careful slicing of chives and sprouts. 

"It has not passed notice by any of us how... calmly you are taking this arrangement. Knowing your history with Draco and myself, and worse with Lucius, one must question your sanity for such easy acceptance."

A soft chuckle was the only response for several minutes while Harry completed his task. Finally he rinsed the knife, tossed all the vegetables into a bowl for a quick stir, and cleaned his workspace before turning to address the older man.

"There's not much to tell, Severus. I'm better off here than with my relatives. And the third alternative is much less appealing. Grimmauld Place... holds too many bad feelings," he said, adding a smile to soften the reminder. "Besides, what else should I have done? Throwing a fit wouldn't have done much good, not with three wands turned on me."

Snape smirked in true amusement. "Well yes, I can see that being a detering factor. However, you have not complained overmuch even after the wands went down."

"Yeah, but try to look at it from my point of view. If I were with the Dursleys, I'd be mostly starved, overworked, ignored and/or ridiculed, probably beaten, and forbidden to even think about magic." Harry broke eye contact, opting to stare out the window. "No matter how odd this may seem to you, I'd rather be here than with them. And if you're honest about increasing my training, then it's even better. I can't afford to do most of the things my classmates do at my age. Make career choices? Hah! While all my friends are trying to figure out what to do with their futures, I'd be happy just to know that I'll have one. If I manage to somehow survive beyond Riddle's little grudge, then I'll take the time to figure out what I want to be when I grow up."

As serious as his words were, the Gryffindor managed to end on a flippant note, drawing his eyes back to his teacher. "If you're waiting for a temper tantrum or me shouting at the fates for their injustice, I'm sorry to disappoint you. Right now I need all my energy focused on learning how to survive and get rid of the Dark Weenie." Here he paused to grin a truly evil smile. "And just maybe give him a taste of his own medicine."

An eyebrow raised in question, Severus asked, "I may regret asking, but what sort of 'medicine' do you have in mind?"

The mischievous grin brightened even further. "Well... you know he's been sending me all sorts of hellacious visions, plus the nightmares and bleeding headaches... so I sorta had 'an eye for an eye' planned out. There's gotta be a way to do that, right? Maybe a charm or potion that'll force him to suffer another round of teenage angst and hormones? It'd be loads of fun for everyone involved if Tommy Boy were to have his sleep interrupted by so many inappropriate 'visions' of his own. And I'm sure we can supply him with enough of those."

Before Snape had the chance to ask for examples, the Malfoy men entered the room. "Ah Harry, this smells wonderful!" Lucius exclaimed over the growling of his stomach. "And what have you two been discussing? You look like you're plotting something most devious."

Momentarily detoured from drinking in the delicious aromas, Draco's ears perked at his father's observation. He eyed his classmate warily. "You're not going to aim your next prank at me, are you Potter? That would be most unkind after all the help I gave with your hair."

Harry replied in the most mature manner -- he stuck out his tongue at the blond.

Severus retrieved plates and silverware from the cupboard, then he assisted the Gryffindor in piling them high with the prepared meal. As all four men took their respective seats, he decided to enlighten the blonds on what he and Harry had been talking over.

"Our Mr. Potter," he began as the rest dug into their food, "has decided that the Dark Loard formerly known as Riddle needs to experience a resurgence of his teen years. I believe something was mentioned about angst and wet dreams."

Quickly swallowing his bite of salad, Harry nodded emphatically. "Oh, I think he deserves it. A few perverted dreams to leave him unsettled and wondering where the hell _that_ combination came from. Add in a healthy dose of inferiority complex, with a dash of 'nobody loves me, everybody hates me, I'm going to go eat worms' thrown in for good measure."

The chunk of crab meat didn't stay lodged in Draco's nose for long.

Harry's eyebrows nearly reached orbit. "Don't tell me that you've never heard that line before! It's one of the classic kids' complaints. I think some children's poet even put it to verse." Seeing his companions shaking their heads, he tried to clarify, "Okay then, even better. If you three have never heard it, then Lord Thingie surely missed it too. Which means we can use the original line as a subconscious smoke screen, layering other things beneath it."

"As amusing as this is, shouldn't we be concentrating on more serious issues?" Lucius asked, twirling a fork through his pasta. "I shudder to think what His Royal Arse would be like caught in the midst of a second puberty."

"Agreed! Harry, we should focus on your training above all else."

He couldn't help it. Honestly. Interrupting Severus just came as a bonus. "There's always a risk, of course, but it'll make him so unhinged that he won't be watching what needs to be watched. If we can make his mind regress to, say, sixteen years old he'll be so worried about erotic dreams and his appearance that he'll not be as observant of our other activities. Then we waltz in and give him a specialized whammy."

Lucius' dark eyebrow raised to his hairline, his eyes flicking toward Severus. "Pardon me a moment, Harry." The older wizards exchanged a long, meaningful look, silently offering their opinions. "I apologize for that, to you both. Yes, the 'un-talking' in front of you is rude, but this is hardly a normal situation. Perhaps something can be done to simulate a second adolescence. In preparation, I believe we can even fabricate an 'ancient' manuscript that states only the most powerful of wizards experience such an occurance. After that, he will likely revel in every torture you wish to send his way. However, such a plan has definite risks as well. He is likely to become even less predictable, and with his sadistic tendancies is liable to take this out on those closest to him-" eyes once again catching Severus' "-as many teens seem to do."

The expression of worried concentration on Harry's face kept his hosts amused. The foursome ate in silence for some time before the Gryffindor spoke again.

"Alright, I understand your worries. But what if this old scroll hints at a potion that can rejuvinate the body to match the magical puberty? Old Voldie's been looking for ways to get his original body back, right? He'll put his best Potions Master to the task of researching that, leaving Sev out of the line of fire." He paused in thought, then grinned. "Y'know, I bet if we do it right, that we can get him to down several different potions that'll weaken the hold his soul has on this body. Plus, while Severus is 'busy in the lab', we can find the rest of Voldie's horcruxes and get them out of the way."

Another pause while he drank some tea, standing to refill his plate. "The one worry I have... what if this-" a jab at his forehead "-is one of the horcruxes? I'm all for destroying Snake Lips, but I'd really rather survive the fight. Live to run away from the press another day."

All three Slytherins shared identical expressions of horror. Harry decided that none of them had connected his curse scar with the enchanted items holding parts of Tom Riddle's soul. He thought for a moment, then conjured up a blackboard and chalk.

"Right. We should write all this down, make it easier to double check as we go along." Harry cast a quotation charm on the chalk, then sent it to float by the board. "The Headmaster-" he was proud of the strength in his voice when mentioning the recently deceased "-had this theory that there were six or seven horcruxes. He got rid of Slytherin's ring, but the locket we found was a fake. Remind me later to tell you about that. And I took care of one unintentionally -- that'd be the diary that you gave Ginny a few years ago, Lucius. We figure that he'd try to get an item from each of the Founders, and we're pretty sure that Helga Hufflepuff's cup is one of them. That leaves Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, plus my scar and one other. I kinda think the unknown one is Nagini -- she's been his familiar a long time, right?"

As each item came up on the blackboard, Severus mentally tallied them with snatches of information he had gleaned over the years. He hadn't been part of the Inner Circle since before the Potter's died, but Harry's list started triggering memories. "Ravenclaw had a private library in the North Tower at Hogwarts. I remember the Dark Lord bragging that he'd found it during his school years. We should search for her artifact this summer."

"That sword you used in second year, Harry, it was Godric Gryffindor's, wasn't it?" Lucius directed his gaze away from the board, back to the young hero. Not waiting for an answer, he went on, "Although I find it unlikely that he could have gotten his hands on it. Dumbledore kept a very close watch on his trinkets, particularly when Riddle was nearby. But if I recall correctly, Godric was the most prolific at creating enchanted objects. He left them scattered all over the school. We used to joke about him not picking up his toys."

"Father, that may be more true than you know." All eyes turned to Draco, who visibly preened under their appraisal. "There's a pin holding together two tapestries in the Slytherin common room. During a... practice duel, I happened to witness one of my housemates touch it. He was rushed to the Infirmary and spent several days there."

His Head of House growled at the young blond, "And why did no one see fit to tell me about this?"

Draco's cheeks pinked slightly, the only indication that his favorite instructor's censure had affected him. "You always teach us to be self-sufficient, sir. And fighting in the common room happens so often that we didn't think much about it. I only mentioned it because of something that happened the last day of term. I was tagging my trunks for the trip home when the Bloody Baron floated into the room, chasing Peeves. That damned poltergeist knocked over every loose item in the common room before he got to those tapestries. Then he just... froze for a minute. As if he were Stupified or something. I know that most jinxes don't work on spirits, so it seemed rather odd, stuck in my mind. I had planned on mentioning it to you, but this summer's activities distracted me."

Harry told the chalk to jot down both possibilities, his eyes blazing with renewed fervor.

"Do not expect this to go so smoothly, Mr. Potter," the stern voice of the greasy git returned. "If Rowena Ravenclaw had a library built somewhere on Hogwarts grounds, it must be masked by every cloaking charm available. None of my colleages knows of it. Don't you think that Flitwick would have found such a place as his position of Head of Ravenclaw? As for the pin... what sort of horcrux would that be?"

Coughing to dispel the air of tension rapidly flooding the room, Lucius rejoined the conversation. "Sev, you have a valid point on both counts, if one thinks rationally. Yet we all know that the Dark Lord has not been what one might call sane since he began this mad scheme. It just might be the silliest items that we need to find. After all, what better place to hide something you wish to remain beyond suspicion than in plain sight, an object that the world would take for granted as harmless?"

"And most of Slytherin House would look at that one harmless artifact as a sort of trophy, wouldn't they?" Harry piped in. "Something personal from their rival House's Founder, taking up such a mundane task." Both blonds smirked indentical grins, verifying the assumption. "I'd like to look it over, either way. If it's just a pin, we've lost nothing but a few minutes. But if there's a possibility..."

"As you say, Harry, there is little to lose to disprove the theory." Standing, Severus summoned all the used dinnerware and set them to wash. Within minutes, with the aid of four competent wizards, the kitchen was sparkling once more. The quartet retired to the sitting room.

"Now then, Harry. We should move our discussion on to this morning's display, hmm?"

Looking like a deer caught in a Lumos spell, Harry gulped and nodded. "I'm really sorry about that, sir. Honestly, I thought I'd learned how to control those... outbursts a bit better. But you two just rubbed me the wrong way with those secret looks -- I hate it when people keep things from me that I need to know -- and I guess I just lost it a bit," he finished, talking more to the rug than to his companions.

Lucius rolled his eyes, then stared at the Gryffindor speculatively. "Harry, look at me." He waited till the young man returned his gaze. "We are not scolding you. As a young person matures, such mishaps are liable to occur. We were more taken aback by the quantity of random magic, and by how well you pulled it back into yourself. Such control is often difficult for the most powerful wizard to obtain."

Harry snorted in disbelief. "You guys can't honestly tell me that you've never gotten so mad as to blow someone up with just a thought. Literally. She survived, but mainly because the Ministry of Magic got to her in time to deflate the daft bint. I've spent the past four years having to learn how to control my magic, and my temper." Here he grinned sheepishly. "Granted, some days are easier than others."

Severus didn't need to see his old friend's face to imagine the expression he was sure to be there. His own must hold a similarly gobsmacked look. If the Boy-Who-Lived had already entered his last magical surge at age fourteen, then they might stand more than a slim chance of success.

"Very well. I suggest that we spend the next day testing your power levels, as well as whatever defensive and offensive spells as you have learned thus far. From there we can form a more comprehensive syllabus for your summer training, and pencil in times to visit the school in search of those two mythical artifacts." He ignored the not-so-subtle protests at his wording. "For this evening, I propose that we determine just how brave we are. A venture into one of the most dangerous areas known to mankind. We must be strong, stealthy, courageous. Only working together as a cunning team do we stand a chance of survival, heading into the darkest pit of iniquity imaginable." 

Severus paused for effect, scanning the room til every face was firmly fixed on him. "The local Muggle shopping centre closes at ten. We should depart soon if we are to properly attire Mr. Potter."

Harry and Draco perked up at once, then raced to their room for shoes and money. That left Lucius behind to growl at his lover, glaring daggers at the man's build-up speech. "You're such a bloody drama queen."

~ * ~


	6. Chapters Sixteen through Eighteen

  
Author's notes: How to cope with an emotional teen.  


* * *

All disclaimers, notes and random information can be found on the first page of this story.

Also, please bear in mind that I began this fic almost a year ago. Since then, I've seen several stories posted by other authors using a similar idea (Voldie Voodoo Dolls). I haven't actually read these fics, but other people have mentioned the closeness. Regardless of whose was posted first, at least on my end, this was unintentional.

And how's that for a wordy AN? *eyeroll*

~ * ~

**Chapter Sixteen : A Field Trip to Hell**

In all his years, Harry had endured many traumatic experiences. Abuse, neglect, starvation, manipulation, plus repeated death threats and attempts on his life five out of the last six years. He had weathered it all with as much grace as anyone could possibly expect. But this... 

A glance at the two over-eager blonds confirmed that he would be shown no mercy. They could smell his fear, and it only fed their delight at his predicament. The sole voice of reason merely stood back and allowed the torture to continue. Green eyes begged the other brunet for clemency, or at least a bit of sympathy. It was summarily denied.

"Potter, there are some things in life that one must simply deal with. Any excursion with a Malfoy bent on spending large sums of money is such an instance. I am here to act as packmule for purchases, and to guard against the unlikely event of ambush. You should accept the inevitable." Nearly black eyes sparkled with wicked glee. "Thank all the gods that you are their target this time. I would hate to be forced to slaughter my dearest friend."

The Boy-Who-Lived threw his teacher the dirtiest glare he could manage. He knew that there was no escape, but had counted on at least a little compassion from Snape. That thought repeated in Harry's mind several times as he tried to determine when his attitude about the irrascible Potions Master had changed so much that Harry would expect such treatment from him. 

His internal ramblings kept the Gryffindor sufficiently occupied through several different stops, as the shop-a-holics dragged him to try on clothes and shoes, choose colors and fabric, and make the few minor decisions deemed too personal to be made for him. Boxers or briefs? At least some things were still within his control.

Harry finally perked up when they entered a jewelers. Here he spent a great deal of attention on the numerous types, cuts, quality and sizes of the loose gems available. Only one ready made set of earrings was to his liking, which he promptly informed the clerk to box up for him. By the time both Malfoys had indulged themselves in various foppery, Harry had also collected a fair number of precious and semi-precious stones. Neither Draco nor Lucius made comment on his selection, but Severus' raised eyebrow demanded an explanation.

Leaning into the taller man's space, Harry quietly answered the unspoken question. "Most of these can be enchanted, right? And let's face it: I'll need every scrap of protection I can get. Plus, it'll give me a hobby, something to do in what little free time I'll have this summer. And maybe I can get enough practice to make a few Christmas gifts for my friends."

Snape's other eyebrow joined the first. "Very well, Harry. I suppose that is a harmless enough way to utilize your energy. If you will remind me when we get home, I believe there are a few texts applicable to your endevour in the study." In response, he received a glowing smile.

"Thank you, sir! I looked into it a bit a couple of years ago, but with everything that's happened lately... well, I haven't had much free time to develop a hobby. Nothing outside of school and extra training."

Severus marvelled at the lack of rancor in his student's attitude. Merlin knew that he himself resented the demands placed on his scant spare time. But even as he thought about it, he understood the answer -- Harry Potter had never had the very basic luxury of having his own interests. First with those dreadful relatives, then with the expectations of the magical world. He vowed to provide what little opportunities he could over the next nine weeks, encouraging the deprived young man to find interests outside of his duties.

A subtle nudge at his elbow brought Severus back to the present. Apparently, the recent exchange had not gone unnoticed by his friend, if the look on Lucius' face was anything to go by. A short nod of acknowledgement confirmed this, as well as letting him know that he would not be alone in helping the young man explore his potential. Satisfied by the silent understanding, he moved over to the register to sign for their purchases. He didn't even cringe at the amount.

~ * ~

Within minutes of their return to the safe house, Harry inquired as to how well warded the property was. He grinned in mischievous delight when told that they were unplottable, with every Muggle repelling charm and notice-me-not spell imaginable in place. He dragged as many bags as he could carry into the bedroom, followed by Draco with the remaining luggage.

Tossing everything on his bed, he ignored the lot in favor of ransacking his trunk for every scrap of hand-me-down clothing he possessed. In short order, he had a pile of faded, worn clothes floating along toward the back yard. Harry lit the discards on fire, summoning hot cocoa and marshmellows to toast.

Draco joined the impromptu bonfire while the two older men watched from the back porch. Little was said, but they all knew that the display was Harry's way of purging the lingering shadow of his relatives. Such catharsis was a healthy sign of the Gryffindor's adaptability, and they could only hope to encourage his further healing from such an environment.

If either man felt odd at their changed opinions about the famed Boy-Who-Lived, well, they were Slytherins for a reason. Survival depended on change, and the ability to use whatever resources were available. And if, just maybe, they had begun to see Harry Potter as more than a symbol of freedom from their unwanted master... no one could blame them for the almost fond way they watched the Gryffindor laugh as his 'therapy' popped and sparked into the night

~ * ~

Supper was a simple affair that evening, with soup and sandwiches throw together to assuage appetites worked up by the shopping trip. 

Harry caught himself yawning several times, and his slow blinks gradually lengthened until his eyes refused to stay open any longer. He made a half-hearted apology to the room in general before staggering off to bed, barely bothering to strip down to his boxers before his head hit the pillow.

Lucius volunteered to check in on the young wizard while his son and Severus cleaned up after the meal. He was hardly surprised to find Harry sound asleep on top of a pile of bags. A series of quick spells had the Gryffindor's bed cleared and Harry comfortably wrapped in cool sheets. Turning off the lights on his way out, the blond permitted himself a long, thoughtful inspection of the young man.

He was ashamed to admit that, like the rest of the magical world, he had fallen into the trap of assumption about the Boy-Who-Lived. Every moment since Harry first stepped foot in the house had chipped another mistaken belief away from Lucius' preconceptions. He wondered how many more surprises the Darling of Gryffindor would provide on the morrow.

"Lucius." A very familiar drawl broke the blond's introspection. "It is time for us to have a little chat, wouldn't you say? Join me for a drink."

With a nod, Lucius made his way toward the parlor, passing Draco as he headed for a shower. His son smirked, saying, "Don't talk all night. I know you two want to dissect Potter and his revelations, but we do have quite a bit to accomplish tomorrow."

Father and son said brisk goodnights, and the elder joined Severus as requested.

He gladly accepted the steaming mug of mulled wine from his friend, settling into an elegant sprawl across a low chair. Out of habit, he sought Severus' eyes before catching himself. Lucius chuckled darkly.

"It appears we have much to work on this summer, other than Harry's training. I hadn't realized how often we slipped into glances."

While the elder Malfoy had been making their charge more comfortable, Severus had taken the time to change into drawstring pants and a loose, unbuttoned shirt. He assumed a lazy position on the sofa, sipping from his own mug. It was simple for him to read the conflict on his oldest friend's features, giving the Potions Master an ideal opening for their conversation.

"Harry is nothing like he would appear to be, as rumors and speculation proclaim him. If I had to classify him now, it would be most fitting to treat him as one of our own."

Grey eyes unfocused for a minute before Lucius replied, "Yes, our own."

"Luc, in that direction lies madness. The boy has already stated his fidelity to the youngest Weasley."

"The _young man_ seems to be open to experimentation. Come now, Severus, you can't tell me you don't find Harry attractive. I saw your reaction to him clearly when he removed his shirt earlier. And that power surge! Salazar himself would be drooling over the lad."

Severus grumbled at his lover's teasing, but could not deny feeling pulled toward the Gryffindor. Naturally, he would fight such attraction to one of his students, however appealing the package.

"I am still his instructor, Lucius. Regardless of the school's rules, it would be imprudent for me to enter into a personal relationship with young Mr. Potter. Imagine how sorely it would undermine my authority with the brats if anyone suspected impropriety."

Waving a hand in dismissal of the notion, Lucius pushed on, "Yes yes, but we are Slytherins. Surely between the two of us, we can easily keep ourselves above gossip and reproach." He decided to try another tactic. "You cannot sit there and honestly tell me that, given the opportunity, you would refrain from taking that delicious, untouched body; the eager mind, naturally curious and open to suggestion. Imagine him spread, naked and trembling, across dark sheets, just waiting for his own debauchery. How his skin would glisten with a fine sheen of moisture, his entire body glowing from desire, nervous but desperate. How he would plead for your touch to deliver some measure of relief from the intensity of sensations his first sexual experience would bring him. How tight and hot his-"

Through gritted teeth, the Potions Master snarled, "You have made your point abundantly clear, Luc." Several deep breaths later, Severus felt his ardor cooling enough to chastice his lover. "I will admit that your description was... intriguing. However, it does not remove the issue of the student-teacher relationship that I must maintain for the foreseeable future. Harry Potter's... attributes, no matter how tempting, are safe from my efforts. You, of course, are still free to pursue the boy."

"Sev, don't be dense." Darkest brown eyes snapped up at the admonision, flashing with the threat of great bodily harm in the immediate future. Lucius returned his glare with amusement. "Take the time to recall Dumbledore's instructions. It would seem to me that the old codger expected this opportunity to come about, and gave explicite permission for you to take the _young man_ in hand. So to speak."

Snape rolled his eyes at the rather crude play on words. "Knowing Albus, he could have meant anything from taking care of Potter's owl to taking his virginity and turning the **boy** into a Knockturn Alley catamite."

Lucius moaned at that image. "Oh yes, on his knees, mouth open and eyes closed. Ready and willing to accept whatever we want to do with him. Spank his perfect little arse to a bright red, teach him to swallow cock like a professional. And he's young, his body resilient... I'd bet my entire estate that we could both fit inside him at the same time, with just a little practice, hmm?"

Gasping as flashes of arousal flew up his spine, Severus couldn't prevent himself from getting hard at the decadent mental picture his lover painted. Hissing through clenched jaws, he scolded the blond, "Luc, just stop. Please. There is no need to get your hopes up about seducing Harry. However pleasant an occupation these fantasies are, the boy has a girlfriend. He is the savior of the magical world. And he is my student. These are lines I must not cross, if I am to retain some semblence of moral fibre." In a flutter of silky shirttales, he headed toward the hall. "It's time for bed. This conversation is getting us nowhere."

Silvery blond hair bounced across his shoulders as Lucius shook his head. He wouldn't give up so easily, but he might let it rest for a few days to give Severus a chance to cool down. And just maybe he could find a way to convince the stubborn man that it would be a grand idea to seduce the Boy-Who-Lived. Idly stroking his own erection, his smirk more wicked than ever, Lucius slouched farther into the chair's cushions to take care of himself before joining his lover in bed.

~ * ~

**Chapter 17 : Message for you, Sir!**

Morning broke with a resounding crack. Especially since Harry, and later Lucius, forgot to remove his glasses before falling into bed.

When he managed to untangle himself from the sheets, the brunet spent several minutes fumbling amidst bags and assorted detritus in search of his newly broken spectacles. A quick reparo charm later, Harry was torn between delight and dismay at the mass of belongings -- his very own clothes that _fit_ \-- to be put away. He decided to let that wait til after Draco woke up. Not that the blond would notice or appreciate his procrastination, but Harry wasn't ready to tackle the mammoth task.

Grabbing the bag he vaguely recalled holding jeans and t-shirts, he dressed quickly before heading to the kitchen. If ever he needed a strong cup of tea, he had the feeling it would be today.

Bright morning sunshine lit the room much more cheerfully than he really wanted just yet. He made tea and toast, then took his meal to the study to look for the books on enchanting gems.

At the last moment before opening the door, he remembered what had happened the day before, urging him to knock before entering. When no one answered, Harry slowly went inside, relieved to find the room deserted. Almost.

Sitting on the desk was Fawkes, busy preening his crimson and gold feathers. Harry ran the four steps to greet and pet his former mentor's familiar.

"Never thought what might happen to you, Fawkes, now that Dumbledore's-" The bird cut off his apology with a sharp nip to his finger, followed by a soft crooning. At the phoenix's song, Harry felt his mood improve dramatically. Fawkes bumped against the Gryffindor's bowed head til green eyes looked up. Even for a man not versed in Avian-speak, Harry understood that his grief needed to be put to rest.

A second song began, more lively and wistful than the first, as the bird nudged several scrolls toward him.

"What's this then? You're playing post owl?" Harry hummed along with the phoenix's tune as he sorted through the correspondence. "Luc. Luc. Sev. Three for Draco, each with a different perfume. _Potions Mastery_ \-- Sev. _Daily Prophet_ for the last three days. And four for me!"

Harry left everything but his letters on the desk, all but bouncing his way over to the corner chair. He recognized Hermione's precise script on the top parchment and tore through the seal.

_Dear Harry,_

_I do hope you're feeling better, and that you understand Mrs. Weasley's concerns. It may seem like a drastic request, but I think it makes sense until after You-Know-Who is taken care of._

_You probably haven't received any news since going home, so I'll try to give you a brief summary.  
Last year's Potions professor decided to take an extended tour of South America. A likely excuse. I'd bet anything he just doesn't want to get dragged into the war._

_The new Minister is calling for every able body to take abbreviated courses in magical and Muggle first aid, and to sign up for testing with the Auror reserve units. At least he's taking this matter more seriously than Fudge did, even though the Prophet calls him an alarmist._

_Professor McGonagall is officially the new Headmistress. She told the Prophet that she hadn't decided who would take her place in either the Transfiguration, Head of Gryffindor, or Deputy positions. But I think she's got someone in mind for Deputy. It only makes sense really, and could be tremendous help for his role. You know what I'm talking about._

_By the way, I finally understood why you kept telling us to think. Oh Harry! How horrid it must be for him. We should be really nice to him next term, if he's still there._

_I know this isn't much, but it's all I have time for -- Fawkes is getting most impatient._

_Get your summer work done!_

_Love from,  
Hermione_

Harry read the letter a second time, then a third. That first paragraph still made no sense. He grinned thinking about Severus as Deputy Headmaster though. Yes, that would keep him safer from Voldemort's wrath. Still, the first lines worried him. Shrugging, he unrolled the next parchment, which turned out to be Ron's untidy hand.

_'Lo mate!_

_Mum's gone mad. Ginny's in tears. Dad's working sixteen hour days helping with that first aid stuff. The twins say hi and to check your balance, whatever that means._

_Hope you're doing ok. Maybe we can get together before your birthday this year, huh? Getting my hair pulled out by Dumbledore's bloody bird, gotta go._

_Ron_

Well, that was Ron all over. Short, blunt, little help. Harry cringed at his uncharitable thoughts. Ron was his best friend, no matter how obtuse or emotionally retarded he could be at times. And Harry was digging himself into a deeper pit. Best to move along.

_Dear Harry,_

_I'm so sorry this has to happen, but Mum's terrified. Remember that article in the paper that came out the week before term ended? The one about us dating... Mum said the letters started pouring in that morning. And not just letters, but Howlers and threats too! Dad traced about half of them and did something to make them stop, but the other half is getting worse._

_We've been together for so short a time, but maybe Mum's right. Harry, we've got to publically break up, nice and friendly, so no more Howlers are sent. Or worse. Maybe we can try later? I really like you, but these people... they're crazy and serious and ready to do terrible things to Mum and Dad and all of us._

_Guess I'm just not strong enough to weather this storm. I'm so scared for Mum, Harry. When Ron and I go back to school in September, she'll be all alone, and you know how friendly she is. She'd be a sitting target!  
Please don't be mad, Harry. We can try again after... everything else... if we're both still interested._

_Ginny_

By the time he was through reading his ex-girlfriend's letter, Harry's glasses were heavily smudged and he had to dig into his pocket for a handkerchief. He'd hoped for more time, more hugs and quiet walks and talking in front of the fire. Like everything else in his life, the choice was not his to make. He almost forgot the last letter, which didn't bode well as he read the signature at the bottom. Molly Weasley.

_Harry dear,_

_We were so thrilled to hear that you and Ginny were dating at last. But really, dear, now is not the best time for romantic entanglements, is it? You'd hardly have time together, what with NEWTs and your special studies and all._

_We think it might be safest for Ginny, and of course you too, if you young people waited til after Ginny finished school before you got serious._

_As one of our family, we only want you to be safe and happy. Give it some thought, love. We look forward to seeing you in August sometime. Ron's quite anxious to visit with you._

_Love,  
Molly_

Before he finished the final lines of the message, loose strands of magic began leaking from his fingertips. Harry spared a thought for the three sleeping Slytherins and quickly decided to go out back before someone else got hurt. He really didn't want to harm Molly -- she had always treated him like one of her own kids -- but her letter felt like a betrayal.

A thick red film coated his vision, and Harry knew he woudn't be able to restrain the impending magical outburst. With what focus he could manage, he projected every urgent tingle, ripple and swell of his percolating power into one mighty **push**.

~ * ~

Severus was having such a pleasant dream. One of the rare night visits that did not involve pain or regret. At least not his own.

_He was an active participant in a Neville Longbottom Re-education session. Shackled to the wall was his most burdensome student, with every teacher on Hogwarts staff literally force feeding him pages of their textbooks. Every so often the boy would belch out a stream of knowledge. Severus' turn was next, and he gladly took his place..._

A silent explosion of colors and emotions jerked the sleeping wizard from his fantasy detention. Wand at the ready, he ran from the room without bothering to grab slippers or robe, in search of the one person nearby who could possibly produce such huge amounts of raw power.

He barely noticed Lucius following on his heels, or the bedraggled younger Malfoy staggering out after them. His search led to the back yard, where Harry stood in the center of a rainbow-colored vortex, his eyes glazed and lips stretched in a tight, thin line.

In a ghostly voice, Harry ordered, "Back up," just as a tall wall of golden light formed at the edge of the porch. Severus saw no spell cast but recognized the powerful barrier charm at once. They were trapped, he realized, until the Boy-Who-Lived managed to expell the magic that was visibly bubbling beneath the surface of his skin.

Helpless to intercede, the trio of Slytherins watched in rapt awe as leafy green tendrils sprung up from the ground around Harry, tiny shoots by the thousands in intricate grids. Along the back and sides of the property, thick hedges developed in the blink of an eye, obscurring all signs of the world outside. Several types of fruit-bearing trees ran the length of the yard, mostly situated at the corners and across the porch to provide shade.

Harry floated several feet into the air, narrowly missing the foundations of a brand new bubbling fountain. Trellised archways covered the fountain and led in all directions, with openings for benches every twenty feet. The covered path continued around the perimeter before attaching to the porch. A burst of color and fragrance hit the Slytherins as dozens of varieties of climbing roses grew across the arches, partially obscurring the Gryffindor from their sight.

Severus was the only one with wand in hand, and his attention was so focused on the display of power that he almost botched his aim with a mobilicorpus spell as Harry's agitation drained out and the young man dropped in a dead faint.

Less than ten minutes had passed.

~ * ~

It didn't take a genius to determine what had set off the Boy-Who-Lived -- his letters lay exactly as he'd left them on the study floor.

While the two older men discussed how to handle and explain their rather extensive garden -- not to mention how to deal with Harry when he woke up -- Draco detoured into the kitchen. No matter what crisis had led to the most recent theatrics, morning required large quantities of tea and a healthy serving of food. He only hoped that a certain house elf would answer the call so far from Hogwarts.

The elf in question had feared his father, as any sane creature should, but had always held a soft spot for Draco. Even after being released from his servitude to the Malfoy family, Dobby would happily oblige the blond heir whenever he was able. And since the summer months were so slow for the school's elf brigade, Dobby popped in only seconds after he was summoned. With much babble, bobbing and bouncing, the tiny being disappeared once his orders were received, returning a few minutes later with a wide variety of breakfast treats.

Draco thanked the giddy elf and levitated the over-burdened platters toward the study. His father's voice carried out into the hall, filling him in on what little he'd missed.

"Severus, there is nothing we cannot handle ourselves. Dumbledore wished total secrecy for all of us this summer. If we start calling Pomfrey or McGonagall, all of his instructions will be shot to hell. Besides, I don't think the situation is as desperate as you make it out to be. Yes, he has a ridiculous amount of raw power. Yes, he has trouble maintaining his emotions at a steady level. And yes, this latest fiasco is just the sort of half-arsed nonsense to set him off. I think you are forgetting something -- young Mr. Potter has more control over his natural magic than you or I. Look at this morning's incident, if you will. He took every negative emotion that screamed to be set free, and channeled it all into a lovely garden. Our best Herbologists couldn't possible do as well without taking years of conscientious effort."

Smirk firmly in place, Draco and his bounty joined the party just in time to witness glassy green eyes peak open. "Welcome back, Potter."

Lucius immediately looked toward his son, gaping at the mounds of food trailing behind like a leashed dog. Severus' attention was wholey on the Gryffindor. Except for dark circles under his eyes, Harry's outburst appeared to have done no lasting harm. Conjuring a low table, the Potions Master summoned pillows from the parlor for everyone to sit on.

"I suggest we eat here, since Draco was so kind as to bring sustenance." He smirked in Harry's direction. "Or we could take it outside to enjoy the wonderful scenery Harry has seen fit to provide for us."

It was apparent that the young hero's body wanted to blush, but thanks to his earlier activities, his blood pressure and sugar levels had fallen below the point of allowing more than a pale pink flush to color his cheeks.

"No one got hurt, sir. I couldn't keep it all in, but I could at least direct it to something positive."

A broad smile broke out on Lucius' face, only somewhat dimmed by the calculating gleem in his eyes. "No harm done, Harry. You did well to channel so much power. And the garden is a brilliant addition. This place needed a bit of color."

As mentally fatigued as he was, Harry saw through the raving endorsement. "Thanks Lucius, but I know when I've screwed up. Hopefully my punishment can wait til after breakfast though." Slithering down to sit at the conjured table, Harry filled plate and cup before letting himself look to his professor for approval.

"Yes Potter, you may eat." Inwardly cursing the foul Muggles who had used starvation as a means of control, Severus joined his student and fixed his own plate. Before taking a bite, he leaned aside to whisper in Harry's ear, "Every person, male or female, human or house elf, experiences emotions. The fact that you thought to shield us, _after_ the burst had begun, indicates your level of personal discipline. Your martyr complex, on the other hand, must be dealt with post haste."

Both grateful and repentant, Harry opted for not continuing the conversation as his stomach took the time to inform him of its demands to be filled. He could think and eat at the same time, and after expending so much energy, he badly needed the calories. 

He also needed to decide how to cope with yet another person's games of power. A heavy mental sigh pushed his train of thought back to a certain blond aristocrat. Harry was not as oblivious as his best friend -- he knew when someone was flirting with him. And now that he was 'single' again, he just might indulge a bit. But only fooling around... his heart wouldn't stand another direct hit so soon.

~ * ~

**Chapter Eighteen : Modus Vivendi**

While his father and Head of House dragged Harry out back for a full round of testing, Draco contented himself with a bit of creative writing. 

He snickered as he wrote, carefully remembering to mask his voice and penmanship -- it wouldn't do to let the world know who was standing up for the famous Boy-Who-Lived. Not yet, at any rate. He also realized that he couldn't target all four of the people who had last written Harry. Too obvious, especially when one of them was Hermione Granger. That girl had a nasty habit of taking random facts and reaching a logical conclusion. No, for now he would simply have to content himself with the Weasley women.

Halfway through his scathing letter, Draco's vision blurred. He put down quill and ink, preparing for whatever images were to be shown.

_a flash of faces and feelings, all well known to an educated pureblood. whispers of suggestions from unseen voices. a brief glimpse of four wizards and two witches, channeling power to another, in a remote clearing. an admonishment not to do anything rash that might interfere, followed by an image of himself writing._

Coming out of his vision, the blond rolled his eyes and sighed heavily as he crumpled up the Howler he was preparing for Molly and Ginny Weasley.

"Fine. Message accepted," he muttered, grumbling, "But they deserve to be told off for this."

The hair on the back of Draco's neck prickled, tingling sensations running along his spine. He understood well enough -- the gods would have their way, and he must leave the redheads alone. For now.

~ * ~

Severus watched his student's progress, becoming progressively more concerned as the tests gained difficulty. Oh, Harry was doing just fine with the tasks set for him, but his apathy was like a sour note that ruined a fine opus. No matter how hard he was pushed, the Gryffindor's depression rang through. Except it wasn't a true 'depression'... moreso, he had accepted that he would have to deal with any and every injustice thrown his way. He finally allowed himself to comprehend the young man's earlier words: where his classmates were busy deciding what to do with their lives, Harry's basic right of choice was taken from him in so many respects.

It would be so terribly easy to lay blame for this travesty all on one man's shoulders. Indeed, Albus Dumbledore had orchestrated a great deal of the publicly known 'facts' about the Gryffindor hero. But Severus was not one to lie to himself -- he was all too aware that the youth had a role to play, and the reality of that role insured little personal freedom.

The early summer sun was high in the sky when they broke for lunch. They sent Harry in for a quick shower while Severus fixed their meal. Lucius located his absent son and brought him to join them in the kitchen. 

Looking more solemn than was the norm, Draco sat at the table just before Harry came in. His silver eyes met the young brunet's for only a moment as Draco tried to decide how to relay the morning's vision. Or even if he should. The gods sent him images, messages, and sometimes actual instructions... but they never said if he should make his position public knowledge. With a mental shrug, he decided to wait to get the Gryffindor alone before making that decision.

Innocuous comments were passed around the table alongside the salt and pepper, as if each wizard wished to keep the mood light. This was a defeated effort, thanks in large to the lingering black fugue hanging from the Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry knew his mood was bringing the atmosphere down, he just couldn't shake the feeling that he was doomed to be lonely and alone, to die trying to save a world that didn't really see him for what he was: a scared teen, supposedly destined to fight a Dark Lord. He wanted to rant and rave, to throw a wobbly, to scream at Molly and Ginny and the whole of magical Britain. Instead, he sat back and listened with half an ear to his dubious companions trying to make polite chitchat. He might've laughed at the irony of Severus Snape and polite in the same sentence, if he could just shake the feeling of dread hanging over him. A phrase he'd heard from one of Hermione's books kept coming to mind, a 'miasma of grief', that seemed to be most appropriate to his present state.

He missed the end of the meal. Missed his professor bullying the feared Lord Lucius Malfoy into cleaning up. Missed the brief discussion between the three Slytherins that would decide his immediate fate. Harry was so stuck in his dark mood that he almost jumped out of his skin when a pale hand was placed on his shoulder.

"Come on, Potty. It's recess and we're going to leave the old folks to play elsewhere." The blond kept his voice even and gently teasing as he ushered his classmate back to the relative privacy of their bedroom.

The door had barely closed behind them before Draco set locking and privacy spells on the room. He eyed Harry's dour expression and nodded to himself.

"Right, here's what we're going to do." He waited for dull green eyes to focus on him before laying down his idea. "There's this part-Muggle magic that's used on people who do you wrong but you can't get close enough to them for a proper confrontation. The practice is often mocked as being superstision, a hoax, but it works well enough."

A flicker of interest was quickly squashed. "I don't want to hurt the Weasleys. They're just trying to stay safe."

"Not them, you dolt. Voldemort. We'll find a few scraps of fabric and sew up a doll. I'm sure either Father or Severus has something of His we can use as a focal point. Then we take pins and whatever other instruments of torture you'd like to use, and you can take every bit of your frustration out on the Voodoo doll. It might not do much damage to Lord Snake Thingie, but it'll make you feel alot better."

Harry listened through a thick black fog, gradually coming up for air. His mood had been so stiffling, choking him with negativity. How was it that the one person who had always been so hostile toward him was the only one to try to change his bleak moods?

Then the blond's suggestion really hit him, and Harry almost fell over laughing.

"If it works at all, we can just have Lucius' fake scroll explain it away as growing pains."

Draco allowed himself a smirk of satisfaction as he went on to plot with his former rival the many things they could do with the Voodoo doll.

~ * ~

Severus had mixed feelings about letting his star Slytherin handle Harry's depression. In the end, he could think of nothing that might help, and left the two teens to their own devices. Besides which, it was time for him to check in with his co-workers. On both sides.

A quick message to Minerva explained that her precious Golden Boy's training was progressing well, and that they would need some time at Hogwarts over the summer for research. In spite of the ban on students staying at the school over the summer months, he felt sure his colleague would approve a few hours worth of library time. Of course, he failed to mention which library, or any other side trips that were expected.

Next on the list was the more loathsome, but equally necessary, missive to the Dark Lord's chief psychophant. He truly hated spending any time dealing with Bellatrix Black LeStrange, but he would need to arrange a meeting through her. Carefully expressing degrees of veiled suspense and excitement, Severus hinted at an ancient treatise he'd recently begun translating. As her role as Draco's aunt (however pitiful her attempts at familial duties were) he included a status report on the young blond's 'private tutoring'.

Satisfied with the turns of phrase he had used, Severus sent a sharp whistle to call his gyrfalcon to deliver both parchments.

His final letter would need more tact, and less subtlety. Molly Weasley, in her quest for her family's safety, had almost done what the Dark Lord had failed at so many times -- break Harry Potter's spirit. Such callous treatment could not go unpunished. And since Harry wouldn't think to deliver his own retribution, Severus would take great delight in doing the deed for him.

_My dear Molly,_

_I write in hopes that you and your lovely family are well and safe. That was your primary purpose in sending your recent letter, was it not? It surprises me that you have not yet thought to forbid any of your sons from their friendship with Mr. Potter. Surely Ronald is in a more sensative position as the best friend of the Boy-Who-Lived. Hmm... If one were of a suspicious nature, your missive to Potter might actually be deemed the work of a Death Eater, trying to break the brat. Fortunately for the Order, Mr. Potter appears only mildly suicidal._

_Have no fear, Molly, I will insure that the Golden Boy survives to defeat the Dark Lord. However, do not expect me to cushion the boy against any further blows to his fragile ego. Perhaps you should get Miss Granger to explain some Muggle psychology. Ask her how a young man, after suffering years of abuse and neglect, might react to having one of his few choices ripped away from him, and by the only people he had ever learned to trust._

_If you indeed wish to transfer your loyalties, I would suggest a meeting with Peter Pettigrew. After all, you Gryffindor turncoats should stick together._

_As to your request of a publicly amicable break-up, you shall receive just that. Mr. Potter does not wish to harm your precious clan. I cannot guarantee his mental state, naturally, but I will guarantee him the opportunity to dissolve ties with your youngest offspring._

_A word of caution, Molly dear: Do not attempt to contact Harry Potter any time in the foreseeable future. Nor should you speak of him in any matter. This parchment is charmed to prevent such gossip, even from your blasted kin._

_In future, you might consider more carefully the impact your decisions have on others. Or you might continue to force an innocent young man to feel betrayed by his surrogate mother._

_Severus Snape_

Borrowing one of the unmarked Malfoy birds, Severus tied the letter on the owl's leg and sent it off. He felt little satisfaction for scolding the Weasley matriarch -- the woman would weep and wail and whine, then return to her petty mechanisms.

He barely noticed the shower turning off before Lucius stepped into the room, covered only by a towel. "Finished wrecking havoc on the Weasleys, have you? If you won't, I shall."

Severus waved away the offer. "Nonsense, Luc. They know of my presence in Mr. Potter's affairs, but you are still a wanted escapee. We cannot afford to tip anyone off as yet about your change in allegience." He grinned slyly at the disgruntled blond. "Besides, I quite enjoyed telling off the hariden. Did you know that her twins were originally placed in my House? She made such a fuss about it that Albus moved them to Gryffindor."

The change in subject didn't go unnoticed, but Lucius let it slide. "That would certainly explain a number of occurances involving Misters Fred and George Weasley. They do have a fair amout of ambition as well."

"Quite. And I suspect our Harry to be in cahoots with their latest enterprise."

"Mmm, that sounds about right." Exchanging amused smirks, the older wizards continued discussing less serious matters as Lucius dressed and primped.

~ * ~

"See, here is an illustration on how to imbue Moldiwart's essence into the doll. It won't take much... Maybe Severus can get a sample of his skin or something, with the series of 'new potions' he's supposed to create."

"That would be wicked! Wish I could see his face when we jab a pin through his bollocks."

Draco cringed even as he laughed at the thought. "Oh to be a fly on the wall," he said through laughter.

"Maybe we can figure a way to transfer spells through it too. Send the Dark Weenie a case of acne to go along with his second adolescence. And heat flashes. And maybe a craving for Cockroach Clusters."

"Oh, oh! And make him have wet dreams about Pettigrew's rat form!"

The ideas went rapidly downhill from there. And a good time was had by all.

~ * ~


	7. Chapters Nineteen through Twenty-One

  
Author's notes: Draco and Harry trade teases. Luc and Sev offer him something else.  


* * *

All disclaimers, notes and random information can be found on the first page of this story.

Detailed masturbation scene ahead!

~ * ~

**Chapter Nineteen : Valley of the Dolls**

Harry grinned as he closed the book he'd just finished reading. He could see why such a topic wasn't taught at Hogwarts -- the urge to use this information against his peers was niggling at him, so very tempting. 

Looking up, he found himself to be the focus of a matched set of silver gazes. "Right then, where do we start?"

"Severus should be back shortly with a few... tidbits for your experiment." Lucius' smirk was almost a true smile as he watched the young wizard. It was a relief to all that Harry's black mood had lifted, however temporary that might prove to be. "If memory serves, it is best if one creates the simicula by hand. Why don't we begin putting together the essential materials while we wait."

In a flash, Harry fled the room to find whatever scraps of fabric and stuffing were laying about the house that might prove useful to his Voldie Voodoo doll.

With the Gryffindor out of earshot, Lucius leaned toward his son and asked in a quiet voice, "How long do you expect his good temper to hold?"

"Honestly? I have no idea. He was so much more predictable before fifth year. Now... we probably have a day or so before something else sets him off."

Nodding, the Malfoy patriarch made no attempt to hide his grimace of displeasure from the pronouncement. "After Harry returns with his supplies, do go search through his possessions for some small item we could use as a focal point."

"Father!" Draco's eyes widened in mock horror. "Surely you don't wish to add phantom pain to Potter's list of complaints."

Lucius chuckled softly, leering playfully in the Gryffindor's direction. "Not at all, Draco. Let us just say that the books fail to mention an alternate usage for these little dolls."

Knowing he would get nothing more out of his father before the man was ready, Draco sat back in his chair and allowed his mind to wander. He soon caught on to the inferred suggestion, and grinned at the older man.

Their attention was diverted toward the hall as they heard Severus return, just in time to meet Harry on his way back to the study. The Boy-Who-Lived radiated an expectant air of mischievous pleasure, made more wicked by the expression on Severus' face: complete malicious satisfaction, almost to the point of triumph.

"I see you were successful in your forray."

A deep rumbling laugh answered the implied question. Severus tossed a small bag on the morning's breakfast table before shrugging out of his robes and shoes. He folded long legs into a comfortable position and began removing the various items scavenged from his private stock. A knot of long, curly hair. A vial of fingernail clippings. Two stiff whiskers. A wad of rust-colored cloth containing a broken tooth. A small beaker of formaldehyde with something fleshy suspended within. A small grainy black stone. A curved disk, possibly of bone. A second vial containing several strips of scaley skin and a tiny splinter.

Lucius recognized at least half of the items, and had to hold himself in his chair for fear of falling out of it as he burst into whooping laughter. His little display went on so long that the younger wizards became concerned.

"Father, I've heard that the occasional breath is important to continued brain activity."

Waving away his son's comments, and Harry's uncertain hand on his shoulder, Lucius forced himself to calm down. Through gasps of air, he glared in mock accusation at his friend.

Severus was the perfect picture of feline satisfaction, thoroughly pleased with the 'dead mouse' he had brought to the party. With one long, pale finger, he identified each object.

"A lock of hair formerly belonging to one Bellatrix LeStrange. If I recall correctly, this was rather forcefully removed by your mother, Draco. One of their frequent... conflicts."

Pointing to the disk of bone. "And this would be her beloved husband's. Rodolphus spent weeks hobbling around as his kneecap was regrown.

"The whiskers are from Pettigrew's animagus form, of course. They were plucked for us by Nott, for some petty revenge I assume, which led the rat to take this sample of Nott's right hand. During the entertainment, Dolohov got a little too close, receiving an elbow to the face for his trouble -- it knocked a tooth loose, not that his dental status is good by any means."

Bouncing the stone in his hand, he smirked. "A gallstone, rather large for such impurities, rather painfully removed from Avery in emergency surgery last winter."

Holding the first vial, Severus continued, "These were rather more difficult. McNair is almost as paranoid as Mood, but even the most vigilant will eventually slip up."

At this, the Potions Master paused to summon tea for the group. He took his time adding honey and lemon to his cup, breathing in the fragrant steam before sipping down half the liquid. He looked up finally at the expectant faces, then let his lips curl into a vindictive sneer.

"This last bit is what you were all hoping for, I believe. A skin sample from Voldemort's new body, and a sliver of his wand." Somewhat thoughtfully, Severus' voice lost its triumphant quality, turning curious. "I have never seen a wand 'molt', but it appears to be doing just that. Ollivander has told us for years that the wand and its user are connected at the most primal levels. Shall we see how true that is, gentlemen?"

The expressions on his companions' faces were everything he might've hoped for. Lucius' normal aristocratic hauteur was gone, replaced with glowing pride in his lover's contribution. The younger Malfoy fairly radiated of vengeful hunger. And Potter... Harry's jaw was practically dislocated in shock. But even as he reveled in the teen's gobsmacked look, the young man launched himself at his teacher, latching on in a death grip hug and burying his face in Severus' neck.

"Thank you, Sev, oh gods, thank you!"

Awkwardly putting his arms around his student, Severus returned the hug even as his eyes begged suggestions from the blonds. Draco nodded once, firmly, silently telling him to continue his current actions. Moving toward the two dark-haired men, Lucius knelt beside them and wrapped his arms around the babbling teen. Together, the older wizards rocked Harry in a gentle rhythm, allowing him to release the emotional buildup within their stable embrace.

~ * ~

Draco kept himself apart from the trio on the floor. As much as his conscience nagged him to join them, the memory of his visions said otherwise. That this was a pivotal moment, the starting point of the triad. He knew the eventual outcome -- Saw it clearly, well before the summer began -- but to be witness to its beginnings...

He felt a wistful jealousy try to take hold within his heart, and ruthlessly squashed the unwelcome emotion before it could settle into something truly nasty. For every person, there was a match. The gods had hinted that he would not meet his mate until after the Dark Lord's defeat. Draco resigned himself to monitoring the triad's progress, making certain that nothing interfered with their budding relationship, until the day when the gods finally led him to his own lover

~ * ~

Safe. Warm. Comfort. Compassion. Alleviation of fear. Arms to hold him, keep him sane, share the burden of his turbulent emotions. Balance -- something new and different, a feeling he'd never been blessed with before. Completion -- as if his very soul had finally been cemented to his body. Nothing in Harry's short life had ever made him feel so secure, so well cared for. His brief relationship with Ginny had been all blushing giggles and childish gestures compared to this. **_Nothing_** could compare to this.

His mind replayed the sensations of ghostly hands in more intimate places, but Harry refused to allow the threatening surge of arousal to interrupt this moment. He knew that there was an attraction between him and these men, but that was a matter to be addressed later. At present, he only wished to memorize the completely new sensation of rightness that enveloped him. Here, in the arms of Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape. The irony of his old prejudices versus his instinctual need for these wizards was not lost on him -- he simply chose not to think long on it. Later, he would ruminate over the situation. For now, his starved mind and heart would receive their fill of every comfort these two seemed so determined to offer.

He snuggled deeper into their embrace, at last secure enough to unload the tears that had accumulated over the years. Tracks of silver slid down his face, wetting Lucius' arm, Severus' shoulder. Neither man made any comment. Harry finally opened the dam of grief he'd kept locked inside. Without knowing when it began, he cried for Dumbledore's sacrifice, for Sirius' senseless loss behind the Veil, for Cedric -- so young, for the betrayal of his parents, for their deaths. He cried, at last, for himself. For every year at Christmas when he was forced to observe the 'happy family' he was never allowed to be part of; for the birthdays he'd spent locked in his cupboard, nursing his own wounds; for every pang of hunger, both physical and emotional; for growing up too fast; for his ignorance, his too-early loss of innocence; for the numerous undeserved beatings and malicious words. Finally, finally, he cried tears of hope. For the first time in his life, Harry allowed himself to believe that he wasn't alone, that just maybe he had someone to support him.

Over his head, Lucius and Severus shared one of their 'looks'. In this instance, neither man felt bad for their unspoken communication. What Harry needed was not empty words of comfort, but the very real presence of strong arms and sturdy bodies. A physical guarantee to back up the silent statement: "We are here, and we won't let you fall." Even having expected this breakdown, neither Slytherin was prepared for the strength of their need to comfort and shelter the Boy-Who-Lived.

The elder Malfoy felt his lungs constrict at the wealth of emotion he experienced, as never before. He saw a similar revelatory expression on Severus' face, a tenderness that spoke of deep empathy and caring. If he had once entertained thoughts of a quick, meaningless tumble with Harry, those thoughts were now overrun with the desire to never let loose his hold on these two precious men. His frozen heart cracked its thick layer of ice as the brunets wedged their way inside. He wondered briefly why he had not taken his off again-on again relationship with Severus more seriously, finally concluding that it was not time. Now he was ready to accept whatever the future held for him.

For many long years, Severus had wished for a more stable partnership with his fickle lover. The period of Lucius' marriage to Narcissa Black had been a trial for all involved, but most especially to his own heart. When she left, he had entertained notions of a firm commitment from the blond, but nothing was ever said. Only now, sharing a desperate embrace with his love and his most exasperating student, did he finally understand -- as much as he loved Lucius, they would not have been enough for each other. With Harry Potter, they stood a chance at the fulfilling relationship he had dreamed of since that first night in Lucius' bed, almost two decades ago. Some small section of his brain laughed maniacally at the thought of James Potter rolling over in his grave, but it was quickly subdued by Lily's voice admonishing him to think only of the present.

~ * ~

He didn't need stealth to escape the room, as the triad's full attention was on each other, but Draco decided the practice would do no harm. Quietly shutting the door to give them more than an illusion of privacy, he made his way back down the hall. 

There was little more he could do for the day, except to track down the Gryffindor's token for his father. Calling Dobby, he asked the elf to locate some article of old clothing that Harry might have forgotten to destroy. He added a request for supper to be delivered as well, figuring that none of his companions would be up to cooking.

With the elf's energetic departure, Draco was at loose ends. He could take care of his summer assignments, but that idea was dismissed out of hand -- not only was he feeling too lazy to worry about them, but his books were currently in the study. His changed alliance meant that any correspondence with his housemates would be awkward at best. This left him only one option. Something that could easily occupy him for hours at a time.

Collecting his bag and a clean change of clothes, Draco shut himself in the bath. A long soak in steamy water sounded just the trick. And since he was such a good boy, leaving the lovebirds to their own devices, he decided to indulge a bit. With bubbles.

~ * ~

**Chapter Twenty : With Open Arms**

Coming down from a cathargic emotional purge is always difficult; moreso when the person is unaccustomed to such release. Having never had that type of outlet, Harry was left feeling drained... and as worn out as if he had just lost the roughest Quidditch match. With cursed bludgers.

The first thing he noticed (after his close encounter with sentient sports equipment) was warmth. Snug warmth, holding him in between a double set of heartbeats. His fogged mind took several blissful seconds happily basking in the throbbing heat before it got around to questioning why exactly he was being held so close, so carefully. Severus and Lucius. The names popped into his head before he could be bothered to open his eyes. That wonderful scent of cinnamon and nutmeg and crisp autumn leaves that could only be the Potions Master. The sharper fragrance of clear mountain air and something rich that screamed old money and barely-contained power was definitely Lucius.

Still unwilling to open his eyes and break the relaxed spell, he snuggled deeper into their reassuring embrace. This was what he'd never had with Ginny : to be the protected, instead of protector. The privilege of unburdening all his problems on another person, and the guarantee that they'll at least commiserate, but most likely find a solution.

He knew he hadn't long before one or both of his comforters broke the silence. Or some exterior force made them separate. If he stayed very still and quiet, just maybe they would allow him to remain where he was for just a little while longer.

Contrary to Harry's fears, Lucius had no intention of releasing his hold on the young wizard. His eyes sought those of his lover and found an identical resolve -- the Gryffindor would stay safe within their arms until he chose to break the embrace. It didn't take a Leglimens to know how desperately Harry needed this. Just this, for now. Forcibly shoving all lustful thoughts aside, Lucius acknowledged the young man's primary cravings for comfort and blind acceptance. Everything else must wait. He marvelled that he didn't resent the requisite patience so much, that he felt... more whole, more complete than the most intimate acts of which he held prior experience.

Similarly, Severus found himself quite content to cuddle his student. His previous regrets about the casual nature of his relationship with the elder Malfoy took a back burner to the current situation. How often had he wished for someone to hold him like this? After each revel, every meeting (both the Order's and the Dark Lord's), even a few of the harsher detentions. And while he had always understood about his lover's double life, how often had he resented being pushed aside so that Lucius could be home in time for tea or some social engagement with Narcissa? Eyes closed tight against decades of frustration, Severus ordered himself to do nothing more than enjoy the moment. There would be time later for a self-indulgent bout of 'what if'.

Harry had long since lost track of time. A part of his brain kept insisting that he snap out of this warm cloud, to wake up and get back to his usual self-reliance. He silenced that whingy voice with a forceful 'bugger off!', quite content to float in the comfort so readily offered by these two men. Had he ever really known either of them? So many delusions, masks, charades... his own included. The hard borne pessimistic voice whispered of how he should look for hidden agendas, that he mustn't become complacent or let his guard down. It reminded him of Lucius' pureblood snobbery and all the years of persecution by Severus' hand. 

A much softer voice (that he thought sounded suspiciously like his mother) quieted such doubts by pointing out that neither man was asking for anything just yet, that they too were in hiding for similar reasons, and that they had yet to be caught in a lie. The last concept held more sway than all of Harry's doubts combined. He might not know either man's motives just yet, but it would cost him very little to give them the benefit of the doubt. That he could continue to enjoy their unsolicited comfort while he waited for the other shoe to drop, well, that was a most pleasant side effect. He buried deeper into their arms, a soft purr of contentment escaping without notice.

At least, Harry didn't notice.

Severus heard the feline murmur, and his eyes began to sparkle. With fingers made more dextrous from a lifetime of working with delicate ingredients, he sifted through the dark hair of his student. As expected, the rumble of satisfaction grew louder. His lover's quiet snort of amusement drew his attention to Lucius, and they once more shared a look, this one holding a wealth of promise. And unless he was misinterpreting the blond's expression, maybe a hint of apology as well. But that could wait.

Not accustomed to being left out of the spotlight, Lucius joined his friend in petting their young charge. There was little he could do about the accumulated pain in Severus' expression for the time being, but perhaps he could soften it with understanding. There would be time enough, later, to consider how to make up for years of keeping his feelings locked away. His face broke into a rueful grin as he realized that the much-vaunted Boy-Who-Lived could well be the glue to settle his relationship with Severus. The irony was not lost on him.

Subtley shifting, Harry wrapped his arms around the body in front of him, his face nuzzling into Severus' neck. Not wanting the other wizard to feel left out, he wiggled his bum against Lucius' stomach. Only realizing how the action might be construed when he heard a stiffled groan. His entire body froze, his mind scrambling for an appropriate apology. Before he could find the right words, a pair of chuckles diverted him.

"It would seem, dear Severus, that Master Potter is feeling somewhat better."

Lucius' words rolled over Harry's neck, causing a delicious shiver to travel the length of his body. He squirmed closer to Severus, near enough to taking up residence in the man's lap and dragging a hearty moan from the Potions Master.

"Indeed, Luc. One might go so far as to say he was feeling... playful. I wonder if we shouldn't demonstrate the perils of a young man who insists upon toying with serpents."

Those wicked fingers continued to learn every inch of Harry's scalp, but where before they had soothed, now they incited. Harry had never gone from soft to painfully erect in so short a time. His gasp of surprised arousal caused both Slytherins to don expressions of leering calculation.

"Harry, you must be very clear," Severus softly ordered in his silkiest tone, "what you wish from us. Unlike your classmates, Lucius and I are not prone to changing our attention at the drop of a hat."

Before the bemused young man could formulate a reply, Lucius issued his own warning, "We are far from the clueless, inexperienced youths you may have experimented with in the past." He stopped to check his words, thinking over his intentions and seeing a similar spark of intent on his lover's face. "With us, you would find a much more serious affair. Be very certain before making your decision."

The deepest, fragmented part of Harry's heart wanted nothing more than to thrown himself headfirst into what was offered. His instincts seldom led him astray, and they urged him to accept. Loudly. But the underlying warning in both wizards' words brought back the nagging voice of uncertainty that insisted he was barmy for even considering their proposition. A known Death Eater and pureblood elitist, and the hated Head of Slytherin? What could they possibly want from him, other than to toy with him before turning him over to Voldemort? His 'mum voice' interrupted the unwelcome doubts, imploring Harry to give them a chance.

Carefully extricating himself from the encircling arms, Harry immediately missed the comfort and building desire. He knew that he should think carefully and with a clear mind, something he would never accomplish if he maintained body contact with either man. Harry stepped over toward the desk and shakily summoned tea, breathing deeply of the strong brew to clear his head before turning to face the Slytherins.

Uncertain green eyes still held phantoms of the morning's turbulent emotions, but he found the strength to meet Severus and Lucius' questioning looks. "I'm not sure of many things anymore," he began slowly. "People that I thought of as friends, family even, doing or saying things that make me question... well, everything. My whole life has been one huge chessboard, with other people calling the shots. If you're truly offering me the choice..." He took a deep breath and deliberately met both men's eyes before issuing his verdict. "I would like to see where this leads. We've got a few weeks to get to know each other better without the 'real world' nosing in. If you don't mind taking it slowly...?"

As the young man's uncertain question trailed off, Severus had to catch himself from dragging Harry back into a hug. Whoever would have foreseen how physically demonstrative he would be over his childhood tormentor's son? An aborted movement to his right showed that Lucius felt a similar impulse to protect and reassure.

"If that is your wish, I believe we can accomodate you, Harry."

Before the sentence was complete, Harry smiled brightly and launched himself back into their waiting arms. And once again felt that foreign sense of rightness. He could easily become addicted to this, and that scared him badly. But not quite enough to deny the pull he felt toward these two enigmatic wizards.

~ * ~

**Chapter Twenty-One: There's a Pebble in My Shoe...**

It was shortly after noon when the triad separated at last, though none felt the passage of time. Severus excused himself to the kitchen to start a late lunch, while Lucius set about preparing for the tests they were still determined to put Harry through.

This left the Gryffindor free to take a shower; he dearly wanted some time alone under hot, pounding water after the morning's trials. Gathering fresh clothes and his bag of toiletries, he opened the bathroom door and set everything on the counter. His mind blissfully blank of all the worrisome thoughts from earlier, he hummed as he stuck his hand past the shower curtain to start the water. Harry's peace was broke as the first burst of cool water hit... and a sound somewhat like a drenched cat erupted from behind the curtain.

"Bloody buggerin' hell!" were the first understandable words. "Salazar save me from clueless Gryffies... Harry, turn that **_OFF!_** "

Sheepishly, the brunet did as commanded. Harry's apologies died on his tongue, however, as the shower curtain was thrown back and he got his first glimpse of Draco's interrupted ablutions. A cough turned into a chuckle, hastily covered by both hands, which turned into pure snorting-soda-through-the-nose laughter.

Draco's face was set in mortified irritation -- at least, that was the expression that came across through a thick layer of green facial mask. His pale blond hair was kept out of the caked muck by dozens of pins and clips. Both hands were coated in a thin 'glove' of parafin wax, with a second type of wax dotted across his chest. Wedges of sponge were stuck between each toe, where the smudged remnants of a soft coral nail polish could be seen raked over several pruned digits. To top off the vastly entertaining spectacle, the blond seemed to be wearing some sort of plastic pants -- a fact that Harry was eternally grateful for, even as it sent his laughter into hysterical mode.

"Yes, fine, you've caught me with my pants down. Now, if you would be so kind as to leave the room for five minutes, I'll finish up and vacate so you can have your turn in the shower," the Malfoy heir said in his most pompous voice. The desired effect of returning some small portion of dignity fell short of the mark. How seriously can a person be taken in such a state?

Harry backed out of the loo, still laughing manically, and shut the door on his fuming roommate. Doubled over with tears streaming down his face, he literally fell into a firm body.

"Harry, whatever is the problem?" Lucius asked, concern evident on his face. He pulled the Gryffindor back to standing, holding the shaking form close.

Dark hair shook under the patrician nose as Harry held on for dear life. It was almost as amusing that Lucius had misunderstood the sounds he was making.

"Please love, just tell me. We'll fix it, whatever's upset you this time."

Hiccoughing loudly into the older man's chest, Harry almost choked on a flash of imagery: Father and son trading beauty tips while having their legs waxed. His wail of hilarity caused the blond's arms to tighten, and forced Harry to gulp desperate gasps of air into his burning lungs.

Before Lucius could summon a Calming Draught, the bathroom door opened, revealing his very damp, very disgruntled son. The younger Malfoy took in his classmate's condition and retaliated with a dramatic eyeroll and a sharp slap to the back of Harry's head.

"Oh get over it, Potty," he grumbled, pulling his robe tight around his damp body. Flecks of green still stuck to his hairline, it didn't take Lucius long to add up the facts. His father's more discrete snort only made Draco more surly, with the younger Slytherin turning on his toes to flounce off to the bedroom, muttering all the way about inconsiderate Gryffindors and disloyal parents.

Lucius found himself more entertained than insulted, and contented himself with rubbing the thin, shaking shoulders. No sooner had the bedroom door slammed shut than Severus stuck his head into the hall. Lucius grinned at him over Harry's head, explaining in a too-loud voice, "Harry walked in on my son's weekly 'treatment.' As you might recall, such a sight has a rather dramatic effect on people."

Severus smirked, then snorted a loud bark of laughter. "Indeed. If Draco manages to survive this humiliation, I foresee a bright future for him in the realm of beauty salons."

Something that sounded suspiciously like 'sod off' came from behind the closed door, setting the trio off once again. 

Harry's explosion tapered into hiccups and the occassional giggle. His eyes opened to long blond hair, confirming the owner of the body holding him so carefully. As he lifted his head, Severus gave him a small smile of acknowledgement before returning to the kitchen, leaving Harry and Lucius alone to deal with this latest episode.

"Feeling better, Harry?" Lucius asked softly, his breath tickling the brunet's ear.

A shiver of desire lanced down Harry's spine, circling his pelvis and weakening his knees, before taking up permanent residence in his shorts. How could something as simple as three innocent words whispered into his ear produce such an instant arousal? He stifled the moan that wanted to come out, forcing himself to step away from the blond.

"Yeah, I'm fine now, Lucius. It was just such a surprise, y'know? And don't tell Draco, but I'd forgotten he was around."

Lucius' grin broadened and he leaned toward Harry to say, in a low voice, "Your secrets are safe with me." He let his lips brush lightly against the famous lightning bolt scar, then turned to join his contemporary in the kitchen.

On legs that felt jelly-jinxed, Harry shut himself into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. None of his admittedly limited experience with sexual contact had prepared him for the intensity of what he had felt with Severus and Lucius. He briefly considered a cold shower to rid himself of his aching erection, but on second thought decided to exorcise it a more pleasurable way.

Starting the shower again, he placed his soap and shampoo on the ledge and quickly stipped -- lunch would be ready soon, and he didn't want to make anyone wait for him. But first... to take care of his 'problem'.

Stepping under the steamy spray, all his nerves seemed to thrum with the beat of his painful hardon. Harry leaned against the tiled wall and grabbed the soap, working up a thick lather. He stroked across his neck ( _remembering Lucius' breath against his skin_ ), along both arms ( _that fit so well around Severus' body_ ), down his chest ( _and when did his nipples become so sensative?_ ) 

Ignoring his need long enough to wash both legs and feet, he worked down the front and up the back, his fingers meeting at the cleft of his arse. Only once before had he dared explore this area of his body, but after Draco's tale -- and the resulting dream -- he spread his cheeks apart, carefully rubbing one finger against his pucker. The blast of arousal nearly knocked him to his knees!

Moaning softly, he rubbed harder, not quite pushing past the tight ring of muscle. With eyes closed, he could almost imagine Severus' long finger teasing him, gently but with promise. Almost against his will, one hand moved back to his groin, cupping his ball sac with just enough pressure. Pre-come leaked steadily from his untouched cock, but he wasn't quite ready to end the delicious torment.

Rolling his testicles with one hand, he pressed that one finger into his arse. The slight burn did nothing to ease his desire, enflaming him with visions of either older wizard preparing his body to accept them. His moans grew louder as his finger moved carefully in and out, eventually up to the knuckle. When had he gripped his penis? No matter, he needed the release, soon!

Wiggling back against the invading digit, he brushed against a thick knot inside... and saw stars explode behind his eyelids. Only by biting his lip did Harry stifle the surprised scream of pleasure. His hand moved faster along his erection, his finger rubbing that bundle of heaven, and soon -- way too soon -- he erupted over his stomach and chest.

When his eyes finally opened, Harry realized he had somehow slid down in the tub. He allowed a few minutes to let his breathing get back to normal before he tried to stand, only then realizing that he still had a finger in his arse. Around his blush, Harry laughed at himself. If this was what happened solo, he could look forward to some earth-shattering orgasms at the hands of those two experienced wizards.

Happily humming at that conclusion, he finished his shower and dressed before joining the Slytherins for lunch.

Three amused smirks greeted him in the kitchen. As his face burned with embarassment, Harry realized he had forgotten to use silencing charms.

Severus spoke first, breaking the tension, "I do hope you've worked up an appetite, Harry."

Unable to say anything in his own defense, the Gryffindor slumped into a chair and attempted to hide behind a mound of food.

Most of the meal found one or more wizard chuckling -- not unkindly, but definitely at Harry's expense -- breaking the sounds of four hungry men. When Harry got up to collect the used dishes, Draco pulled him down to stage whisper, "Thanks Potty. I don't feel quite as bad sharing the spotlight of shame after your stellar performance."

Harry's cheeks flamed crimson again, but before he could stammer... some sort of rebuttal, Lucius warned his son, "None of that, Draco, or we'll have a little discussion about your nail polish."

Harry took a wide berth around the sputtering blond, arms loads with plates. 

~ * ~


	8. Chapters Twenty-two through Twenty-four

  
Author's notes: Enter Hermione.  


* * *

~ * ~  
 **Chapter Twenty-Two : Finally Getting Somewhere**

For the next five hours, the older wizards sent Harry through every test they could think of : standard OWL and NEWT level problems, Auror training exercises, even the requisite curses and counterspells for Death Eater recruits. It soon became apparent that their charge had indeed done his 'homework'. "For a change," was Severus' expected snark, even as he fought to prevent his approval from showing. The ease with which Harry sped through each trial made both Slytherins feel almost... hopeful -- an emotion quickly taught out of Salazar's fold.

The Boy-Who-Lived weathered his tests better than either man had expected, not even breaking a sweat. It was obvious that he wasn't using his full strength on the practicals, so Lucius suggested they test him in a duel setting. They quickly marked off the 'arena' and called for Draco to join as the second mediator. After a short discussion, Severus was chosen to be the first opponent.

For every curse the Potions Master threw his way, Harry countered with a shield or reversal, or just dodged to send his own spell at Severus. The teen wore a broad grin, thoroughly enjoying himself, but still showed no signs of his full power. Breathing a bit harder than usual, Severus called for Lucius to join the attack.

Harry handled both wizards with an ease that had them amazed, bolstering the hope that had taken a tentative residence in the older Slytherins. He laughed in pure delight as his abilities were finally being put to the challenge, making him work towards victory in a way that the entire DA's combined efforts could never do.

From the sidelines, Draco watched his father and mentor's downhill battle. He had often suspected Harry of holding back in class, but to actually witness two experienced Dark wizards so easily brought to stalemate? He threw back his hair and drew his wand, stepping into the fray. After all, he reasoned, they were supposed to test his classmate's potential.

The addition of a third opponent registered in Harry's mind as a silver blip -- target acknowledged. His eyes flared with a killing curse glow as he matched his power levels to the combined attack. Seeker-honed reflexes kept him dodging through their lesser jinxes, conserving his deflective shields for more damaging spells. To each Slytherin, Harry's visible joy and easy evasion resembled an elegant exhibit of a trained dancer.

The last hour of testing passed in a blur of coordinated attacks and paries, with only a few minor hexes sneaking through to give the sole Gryffindor green hair and a prehensile tail. Although, as Draco would later admit, Harry used the tail to his advantage -- grabbing the younger Slytherin's wand as he cartwheeled past a double assault from the older wizards.

In full teacher voice, Severus called the duel to an end just as the sun dipped below the horizon. All three Slytherins were grateful for the chance to regain their breath, with Draco shooting mock glares at the Golden Boy. Harry stood to one side and calmly summoned iced juice for the party. He looked neither cocky nor triumphant, but his face glowed softly with satisfaction.

"So, what's my score, Professor?"

While Lucius rolled his eyes and flopped into a nearby lawn chair, Severus pierced his student with a sharp stare. "Mr. Potter," he began, using the voice that often made first years cry, "if you displayed even half of today's skills in your schoolwork, you would be top of your year. Would you care to explain why, in the six years I have had the dubious pleasure of your presence in my classroom, you have never demonstrated more than a mediocre level of ability in any facet of magical aptitude?"

To his teacher's raised eyebrow, Harry grinned cheekily. "It would never do for me to let every Junior Death Eater see what I'm capable of, now would it? The owls home to mummy and dad would create a small tornado."

Identical grey eyes met behind Severus' head, silently agreeing with Harry's assertion.

"In that you are quite correct, Harry. I am pleasantly surprised at both your foresight and your overall abilities. However, we will discuss your abysmal potions skills soon." Harry groaned, Draco grinned, and Lucius smirked. "Now that I have some idea of your problems in my classroom, there is no reason to avoid utilizing these few weeks to rectify the situation."

"Sev, did you eat a dictionary as a child?" With his eyes shut around his giggles, Harry failed to dodge the tickling hex sent his way.

~ * ~

It took almost an hour for the quartet to counter or cancel the various curses they had accumulated during the duel. Harry volunteered to start supper while the others took turns showering, as he had worked up less of a sweat than the rest. Lucius ordered his son to take last turn in the bathroom for fairly obvious reasons -- the younger Malfoy spent more time grooming than most women before a Ministry Ball.

Feeling much refreshed, Lucius made his way to the kitchen. The tantalizing aroma of stuffed crabs and crisp, steamed vegetables greeted his arrival.

"I must say, Harry, that your cooking is far better than that of any human chef I have ever had opportunity to taste. Much as I regret the conditions under which you developed your talents."

The Gryffindor blushed, muttering a quiet thank you as he turned back to the oven. He pulled out a pan of garlic toast and brought the finished plates to the table.

"Uncle Vernon was always bringing home prospective clients to impress. You should have heard the row he and my aunt had when he insisted I cook for these business dinners."

From the doorway, Severus joined the discussion. "That was evident in our Occlumency lessons, Harry. She was quite skilled with a skillet, if not in its **proper** usage."

"Please Severus, don't... just.. don't, okay?" Troubled green eyes pleaded with the Potions Master to drop the subject. "I never have to go back there, right? So let me forget, as best I can."

Inclining his head, Severus acceded to the request. "For now. You must eventually purge the negative memories, if you are ever to truly move beyond them. Trust me, Harry -- for if you do not, they will fester, leaving you a bitter shell of your true self."

"And there is only room for one bitter old man in this household," Lucius teased his friend, effectively breaking the somber atmosphere. "Let us leave the weighty topics for later, Severus. I feel the need for some relaxation after our most enjoyable exercise."

A short nod. "Quite right. Harry, I must apologize for my earlier disbelief. Whatever means you and Miss Granger used to advance your training were completely justified."

"Thanks Sev," Harry grinned at the older wizard. "Y'know, she's going to be green with jealousy over my extra lessons this summer." He ducked his head and looked at the professor from behind lowered eyelashes, not noticing the fetching image he made. "I don't suppose we can have her join us? She'd make a great addition to our research and practice."

"Much as it pains me to admit, Harry's got a good point," Draco said as he entered the room, flouncing into a chair and commandeering a plate. "Granger can research better than any ten pureblood Ravenclaws."

Surprised and pleased with the unexpected praise of his best friend, Harry pushed another crab cake onto the blond's plate. "I know we don't have room for her to stay here for long, but she's used to Muggle transport. And I've been wanting a place to learn her mum's recipe for pumpkin walnut bread."

"Teenaged boys and their stomachs."

"Oh, like you aren't enjoying my cooking, Luc?"

"I never said that, Harry." The elder Malfoy looked to his friend for counsel. "Perhaps we can arrange a visit or two. Provided, of course, that she understands the need for our security measures."

"Ha! Better than I do, I'm sure. So, it's alright for me to owl her after supper?" Harry's face was the picture of innocence, his hopeful expression one that the Slytherins were loathe to deny.

Giving permission, Severus said, "I see no problem with it. As long as she promises not to inform the Weasleys of your location. Or our presence. It would be... most troublesome if I were called upon to explain our current circumstances."

"In laymen's terms, it's a secret and you don't want the fifth degree from anyone in the Order."

"Exactly."

Their meal ended in relative silence from that point. It was decided (by all but Draco) that, since the youngest Slytherin couldn't cook and refused to try, he was in charge of any cleaning necessary. Harry was ushed off to write his letter, while the older men retired to the study for an after-dinner brandy.

"Is it a good idea to invite Miss Granger here, Severus? Regardless of her aptitude at research, our position must be closely guarded." Lucius sipped from his glass, his face pensive. When all he received was a thoughtful grunt, the blond reconsidered. "But if she is to accept our prospective relationship with Harry, this might be the best way to introduce her to our private personas..."

Severus nodded absently. "That is the main reason I am allowing this visit, Luc. Miss Granger is far from average intellegence, yet she must see evidence of a fact before accepting it as truth. I have often wondered why she was not sorted into Ravenclaw."

~ * ~

_Dear Hermione,_

_Thanks for your letter, and your sympathy. I still don't know how I'm going to deal with the Weasley family just yet, but there's plenty of time for that, right? Maybe you can help me figure out how best to respond when you get here._

_Which is the main reason for this note. Can you get a few days to join me? I'm not at the Dursleys' -- do NOT tell anyone about that! -- and am getting some of that extra training we were talking about on the train. Steel yourself in advance, cus you won't believe who my teachers are._

_Bring whatever books you might have lined up, and that book on spellcrafting too. Remember the one? We've got a few ideas..._

_And I can't wait to see your face when I show you my dollies!_

_Hedwig will wait for your reply. Please say you'll visit for a bit._

_All my love,  
Harry_

~ * ~

The white owl disappeared into the night sky, hooting pleasantly at her master's obvious good mood. Her destination wasn't far, and she looked forward to the lovely treats she was sure to receive on arrival. Every time she went to the Granger household, they made sure to give her plenty of cool water and a generous serving of bacon and cheese.

Coasting through the open kitchen window, Hedwig landed gracefully on the back of Hermione's chair. As expected, she was provided with refreshment and loving hands smoothing over her feathers while the bushy-haired girl removed her letter.

"Oh Mum, Harry's invited me to spend a few days with him! They're researching an idea about... you know... and want me to join them. Since you and Dad are going to that conference this weekend, may I visit them please?" The young witch's enthusiasm was clear in her tone, doubled by her bouncing hair. She absently flipped it back over her shoulder. "He's not at those awful Dursleys' house this summer, getting some tutoring he says. Oh what a perfect time to begin revision for NEWTs!"

Helen Granger glanced at her husband before answering, his indulgent smile giving permission. "Of course, dear. Send Harry our love, won't you?"

"Yes Mum, thank you." All but vibrating as she threw hugs at her parents, Hermione raced off to her room to write a reply. 

_Dear Harry,_

_I was so glad to hear from you. After Mrs. Weasley's decision, it took every bit of strength I had not to send them a nasty Howler. And of course, I'd love to visit. Please let me know how to get there, or include a portkey, whichever is best. I'll be ready before Hedwig delivers this._

_Love,  
Hermione_

Minutes later, her letter sped off on white wings. Hermione wasted no time in organizing the requested books and a bag with the standard necessities. She returned to the dining room to finish her meal, once again calm enough to offer a more thorough explanation to her parents. 

Whatever private worries the Grangers had over the impending magical war, their pride in their only child increased every time they saw the determination on her face. Neither could prevent the fear of a parent for their beloved daughter, but they refused to hinder her involvement by voicing more than a gentle "Be careful, dear."

~ * ~

"She said yes! Sev, Luc, will one of you make a portkey for me, please?" Harry charged into the study, hair dripping down his face. A light grey t-shirt plastered to his damp chest reinforced the impression that the Gryffindor had been interrupted in the shower.

A playfully lecherous grin on his face, Lucius pulled Harry into his lap, effectively putting a stop to the excited bouncing. "I'm sure we can come up with something," he purred into the brunet's ear, nuzzling the warm skin.

Harry's flushed face went from general excitement to an aroused haze in less than a second. His eyelids drifted shut, his body relaxing completely in the blond's embrace. 

"Really Luc, I fear you have short circuited his brain," Severus' comment was tossed over his shoulder as he searched the desk for an appropriate item to charm. Finding a crystal paperweight, he cast the enchantment and jotted down a brief message telling the young witch to join them at her leisure. He sent the small parcel off, then stalked over to the cuddling duo. "I do hope my presence is not an inconvenience."

"Mmm, far from it." Harry's arm shot out, grabbing the Potions Master around the waist. "We must be close to Hermione's house, so she'll be here soon," his words muffled by Severus' stomach, "do we keep this a secret?"

Harry missed the silent exchange over his head. "That is entirely up to you, Harry. If you feel that your friend will not understand, or if you are not ready to make such a public announcement of your involvement with us-" Before he could complete the implied question, Lucius was interupted.

"NO! I just thought... maybe you'd not want anyone to know. I mean, I'm just some clueless virgin, and you're both experienced and powerful and Merlin knows how sexy, and I'm so very not-"

"Enough of that, Mr. Potter," Severus stopped him before Harry could disparage himself any further. "Harry... you are far more desirable than you know. Allow us our own opinions of your attractiveness."

"Just so. Harry, you have much to recommend you as a prospective lover. Whether you see your own worth is not an issue -- the fact remains that Severus and I find you completely acceptable. Irresistable even."

With two sets of hands petting a comfortable rhythm over his hair and back, two sets of arms holding him so carefully, Harry could do little more than admit that, yes, these two strong wizards did desire him. The Gryffindor's chest ached as another layer of the wall around his heart crumbled away.

It was to this spectacle that Hermione popped in. The resulting screech of "What the bloody hell is going on here?" had the three wizards flying back to the present, wands drawn in surprise.

"Uh... hi 'Mione... umm... guess what." The Boy-Who-Lived summoned every ounce of his formidable courage to face his best friend's livid features. He had better talk fast and make sense, or be ready to dodge hexes again. And this was the witch who had taught him most of his more impressive spellwork. Harry inwardly squirmed at the terror of this particular young woman's temper -- she could easily rival any redhead when riled.

"Don't 'hi 'Mione' me, Harry James Potter. It's not even been a week since term ended, less than three days since that horrid woman ordered you to break up with your _girl_ friend, and here you are snuggling with two _MEN_?! And just who are they, hmm? You'd best explain yourself, Mister."

Harry realized that, from his stance in front of his... lovers? partners? what the hell was he supposed to call them?... Hermione had yet to see the identities of either Slytherin. Maybe he could forestall her attack. "Eh, alot's happened, 'Mione. Let's go to the kitchen for a cuppa, and I'll try to catch you up, okay?"

In a startling imitation of the dreaded Head of Slytherin, Hermione glared at her best friend. "Don't even think about misdirection, Harry. You could have mentioned this in your note, you know. Some warning would have been nice. After all, just last week you were a happy heterosexual. Most people spend a few days moping about after being dumped by their significant others."

With a deep sigh, Harry took the required five steps forward and placed his hand over the witch's mouth. He knew that would allow her to see Severus and Lucius, but there was little choice. "Listen 'Mione, I need you to be calm and sit down and hear me out, alright? There's been alot of new... developments. And yeah, it's so fast it makes my head spin if I think about it, but please, keep an open mind." He carefully stepped closer, arms open for a hug. "I need my best friend right now, not the Spell Mistress."

"Oh Harry, what have you gotten yourself into this time?" Even as she chastised her friend, eyes widening dramatically at the identities of Harry's cuddle buddies, Hermione pulled him into a strong hug. "This sounds like a three pot story, with a hefty dollop of something stronger. Professor, I don't suppose you've got any rum on hand? Mr. Malfoy, it's been awhile since we last met."

Lucius raised an eyebrow at Severus. Severus matched it and countered with a tiny shrug. With a flick of his wand, the Potions Master summoned a cut crystal decanter of spiced rum while his friend dealt with a tea tray. If either man wondered at Hermione's swift change in demeanor, they were not inclined to mention their concerns. It was never wise to question the mood swings of a woman.

"And if you wouldn't mind, please refrain from the 'Let's humor the witch' looks? I get quite enough of those from Ron, thank you very much."

A long-suffering sigh. "Very well, Miss Granger. Please forgive my boorish behavior. Too many years with a haridan for a wife has conditioned me to expect certain reactions from the gentler sex." Offering a courtly bow, Lucius held out his arm to lead Hermione to the sofa.

Accepting the proferred courtesy, the young woman wasn't inclined to let him off so easily. "Mr. Malfoy, I can appreciate the requirements of dealing with difficult people for so long a time, however, I must ask that you not lump me in with your prejudices of the so-called gentler sex. As Harry can tell you, I am quite capable of holding my own."

"Miss Granger," Severus' teacher voice brought on the expected response -- immediate, silent attention, "a veiled appreciation of your gender is in no way condescending. Having known Lucius for more years than you have walked this earth, allow me to assure you that he meant no offense."

"Of course, Professor. Mr. Malfoy, I apologize for automatically assuming the worst. As you said, too many years around the wrong people can force certain reactions." Giving the blond a tentative smile, Hermione settled herself on the sofa and accepted a cup of tea. "Harry, you've had enough time to come up with a reasonable excuse or two. Let's hear what you have to say for yourself."

And the spotlight was back on the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry allowed a long mental groan before saying, "Okay, it all started like this..."

An hour later, he was still talking. 

Throughout her best friend's dissertation, Hermione watched the interplay between the three wizards. Such simple gestures as a gentle hand brushing across an arm, or fingers lifting hair away from a face... the casual expressions of practiced lovers. If she didn't know for certain that Harry had never experimented with boys before, had not once exhibited interest even, she would have thought that these men were long-time lovers. 

And then she caught the blush on her friend's cheeks. This was definitely new to him, no matter how comfortable it all seemed. Every touch shot through Harry with a charged pulse, not necessarily of lust, just *there*. Lucius' arm around his shoulders, so casually laid that it could appear innocuous; Severus carding fingers through Harry's messy-as-always hair; the quickly stiffled hum of pleasure he wasn't quite able to prevent. Whatever was happening was 1) new, 2) mutual, and 3) might just be good for her friend. Decision made, it was time to stop Harry's nervous monologue.

"Alright then, I think I've got the picture. So long as you are happy and willing, I'll try to support your wishes. But Harry, do make sure this isn't a rebound thing, hmm?"

The older wizards looked puzzled, and Hermione thanked the gods that they weren't up-to-date on modern Muggle slang.

"Thanks 'Mione. And don't worry, I'm not just going to jump in bed with anyone. This is... I can't explain it. Something just clicks between us." Face patched red, Harry grinned shyly at his best friend. "Remember me telling you about my first kiss? It wasn't much different with Ginny. But now... gods!" He stopped before getting too in-depth, frustrating Lucius and Severus' obvious interest. "Oh, just so you don't get another shock, Draco's here too."

Hermione couldn't stop herself. Honestly. Her face scrunched up as if she had swallowed some particularly foul potion, a shiver of disgust ran down her back, and she groaned loudly. All in about five seconds. 

"Well, I guess we know Miss Granger's opinion of my son," Lucius snickered as the young woman forced a contrite expression. "Please, don't bother being polite on my account, my dear. Draco often has that affect on people."

Harry and Severus grinned at their friends, not bothering to mask the occassional snicker. Just as the Gryffindor opened his mouth to tease Hermione a bit, the study door opened.

"Did I hear my name mentioned? Oh, hello Granger, welcome to the party."

~ * ~

**Chapter Twenty-Three : Butting Heads**

Hermoine bristled as the Slytherin Prince walked into the room. If she hadn't already been told of his presence, he would certainly have been hexed to Kindom Come. As it was, her wand hand itched to follow the impulse, clutching her teacup tight enough to make it creak ominously. But her best friend was unfazed, so she forced a quick, cleansing breath and plastered a smile on her face.

"Malfoy," she said through gritted teeth.

"Granger, good of you to join us," Draco's voice held less antagonism than she'd expected, as if he were addressing a fellow housemate even. "Has Harry brought you up to speed on our projects yet?"

Warm brown eyes sought green, the question of how to treat her classmate's reputation of abuse clear on her expressive face. Harry understood well enough -- none of his friends had been as often targeted by the Malfoy heir as Hermione.

Holding her gaze, Harry answered, "Not yet, Draco. She's just arrived; we haven't gotten beyond who not to curse yet."

Lucius watched the play of expressions on the young witch's face. This was one topic that had yet to be discussed with his new -- if still prospective -- lover. To facilitate matters, he decided not to let them flounder about.

"Miss Granger, a multitude of changes have occurred since last we met. Perhaps the best place to begin is with an explanation, and an apology. I am certain that you can appreciate the need for... playing a role, yes?" She nodded hesitantly. "Very good. Now, as Slytherins, it is imperative that we act with the expected degree of... disapproval toward certain types of people. Muggles, Muggle-born, Weasleys... all must be treated with less courtesy in the public venue, else we fall under suspicion from our peers."

"I understand that, sir, but-"

"Please Miss Granger, allow me to finish. There will be ample time for debate in just a moment." When Hermione calmed back down, he continued, "This excuses little, of course. It is a necessary evil to maintaining good health, no matter how odious. In my son's defense, he was trained to behave thus, just as my father instructed me. Only in these circumstances, private and carefully warded for secrecy, can we treat any non-Slytherins -- or any person of less than the most elite heritage -- as equals. I do hope that Draco has learned to appreciate each person on his or her own merit, but for the necessity of our prior behavior, I offer my most sincere apologies. A young lady of your strength and intelligence deserves much better."

Finishing with a solemn bow, Lucius sat in an armchair and awaited the verdict.

Hermione's mouth opened, then closed with a snap. The older blond's words replayed in her mind, and she found herself believing his sincerity. Helpless against her troubled thoughts, she looked back to Harry. Always before, she had relied upon her best friend's instincts -- if he believed Lucius Malfoy, then she must do the same.

As the witch turned back to him, Harry was busy giving Lord Malfoy a mock grimace. "Really Luc, did you and Severus take some sort of class to sound so... stiff?"

In a stage whisper that Hermione would never have imagined her professor using -- complete with wink and leer -- Severus said, "Harry, are you honestly complaining about dear Lucius and myself being _stiff_?"

The blatant innuendo from her teacher forced a startled gasp from Hermione, which was quickly overwhelmed by Harry's laughter and both Malfoys' snickering. Before she could regain some small measure of balance, Draco made it worse.

Stepping slowly toward the witch's position, wand extended in a gesture of truce, Draco said his own piece, "My father is correct, Granger. Maybe I took it too far at times -- I'm sure from your viewpoint that it would seem so -- but as Lucius Malfoy's heir, every last Slytherin, every Death Eater child, would follow my example. I couldn't go to the loo without someone noting whether I stood or sat to relieve my bladder. I regret the antipathy between us more than you know. If for no other reason than to have a capable and intelligent study partner!"

Draco's arms flew wide in a dramatic pose, but his words rang with honesty.

After collecting herself, Hermione's brain assimilated the newest facts and allowed her to respond. "I think... yes, I understand. And I accept your apologies. It makes more sense than the ruthless prejudice did. Now," back to no nonsense, self-assured Hermione Granger, "if we can dispense with the formalities, please call me Hermione, and let us get to work."

"That's my 'Mione!" Harry said before launching himself from the older wizards' arms into a fierce hug with his best friend. 

Each Slytherin requested that she use their familiar names as well, then the quartet walked her through their proposed topics of research.

~ * ~

It was only after two hours of research and four pots of strong tea that Hermione was able to drag her best friend out to the back yard for a private confrontation. Her eyes widened to anime` proportions as she took in the extravagant garden, but nothing would derail her from the hundred-and-one burning questions that were racing through her head.

Leading them to the furthest bench from the house, she flopped onto the comfortable wooden seat and waited impatiently for Harry to join her.

"Alot's happened since we came back, 'Mione..." Harry began, his voice soft and bewildered. He covered all the events of the past few days, even relaying his personal thoughts, before ending with, "It just feels so _right_. Like all this time I've been headed in the wrong direction, and finally I'm on the right track."

"But Harry, this is Professor Snape and Lucius Malfoy!" Practically vibrating in her seat, the witch's mind whirled with doubts. "How is it that you've never reacted like this to either of them before? Oh gods! He didn't... _do_ anything to you, you know, in detention or something, did he?" A scandalized horror coated her words, and she began to stand, drawing her wand.

Before she could fly off to hex either of his... whatever they were, Harry caught her arm. "'Mione, wait! It's nothing like that." Only the calmly reassuring presence kept her still. He sounded so... peaceful, so very certain, that Hermione relented and forcibly relaxed again.

"Neither of them has _made_ me do anything. Merlin! They haven't even kissed me yet. But they make me feel so safe and warm and so very wanted. For just me, Hermione, not the boy hero or the Gryffindor Seeker, or Dumbledore's Golden Boy. Just me. Just _Harry_. With anyone else, I'd always wonder _why_... even Ginny. Maybe especially Ginny. Don't you remember all that hero worship in her first and second years? But Sev and Luc... that's just not a part of this thing with them."

Harry's eyes went distant, and a slow, sad smile crinkled his face.

"You've always worried about me, not being able to let it all out and just cry or scream or whatever. It was the most... liberating experience, 'Mione. We'd just gone over the components for those Voodoo dolls, and Sev brought back enough to do the whole Inner Circle, and I hugged him for it. And somehow, he didn't hex me, even when I started bawling all over his shirt. Then Luc joined the hug, and it's like a switch flipped inside me. I cried so hard, and they kept me from unraveling.

"'Mione, I honestly don't remember the last time I really cried. The Dursleys made sure I never made so much noise, and nothing since, not even Sirius, could make me let it loose. And maybe I just never felt safe enough. Or maybe it's just them. Probably."

In all the years of their friendship, Hermione had never witnessed Harry so open and calm. She couldn't help but hope that he had finally found the anchor he needed, even if he'd found it in the dubious company of the Slytherin icons. The look on his face was difficult for her to place, as she'd never seen it before. In a flash of insight, she finally identified it -- peace. Peace with himself and with his choices. And that was the crux of the matter, wasn't it? This was _Harry_ 's choice, and if she was any kind of a friend, she would support him in it.

"Oh Harry, of course I'm happy for you! It was just a shock," Hermione said softly, dragging him into a breath-stealing hug. "As long as they are what you want, you've got my full support."

The last knot in his chest loosened at his best friend's approval. Harry knew there would be tough times ahead over his choice of lovers, but as long as Hermione stood beside him, he wasn't going to worry about the idiot masses.

~ * ~

"Lucius, I sincerely doubt that a monitoring charm is necessary."

The blond's body twitched, betraying his surprise at having been caught eavesdropping. "Really Severus, must you lurk? I was simply trying to make sure that the chit didn't upset our Harry. Now hush! I don't want to miss this."

The Potions Master sighed, rolled his eyes, and leaned his head close to the silver mane. He too wanted to listen to their... Harry's explanation of recent developments. He bristled a bit at Miss Granger's accusatory question, but his old friend laid a calming hand on his arm.

"She is simply looking out for him, Severus." A sharp nod of acceptance followed.

Hearing their young lover's quiet assurance as he explained their budding relationship made both Slytherins relax. Twin exhalations of relief escaped them at the Granger witch's acceptance. Neither would have abandoned their relationship with Harry over her disapproval, but it would certainly make things easier to have the 'know-it-all' in their corner.

As the two Gryffindors drifted into more mundane talk, Lucius canceled his spell. "Well, I think I might actually learn to like the girl."

"Indeed. Mr. Potter is most fortunate to have one such stalwart friend." Severus pressed a hard, meaningful kiss to the blond's lips, breaking off to whisper, "Our family has increased, eh Luc?"

A quick smirk. "Just so. Never thought I would have to claim a Gryffindor, but the witch is practically his sister in all but blood." He straightened up, moving away from the back door. "At least she's got a good head on her shoulders. But we really must get Draco to do something about that hair!"

Chuckling over the image, Severus threw an arm across his lover's shoulders and walked them back to the study. "If you can convince her to trust your dear son enough, I wish you all the luck."

Lucius hummed thoughtfully. "There seems to be quite a bit of... animosity between Draco and the Granger witch. Of course, I've heard a bit about their rivalry, but there seems to be some deeper anger on her part toward Draco. Not that I can blame her for holding a grudge-"

"Luc," Severus' voice was gentle, but his eyes held a warning. "Let them work this out for themselves. I suspect we have an incomplete picture of the situation."

"Yes, of course. You can't blame me for hoping..."

"Lucius."

"Really Sev, I know! They must settle their own differences. But I can see no other witch of his acquaintance worthy of my son. My one heir. Shouldn't I want the best for him?"

Placing a soothing kiss on the blond's cheek, Severus agreed tentatively, "They must each find their own path, love. If you push, it will only encourage them to be more stubborn." He removed all contact, sitting heavily on the sofa. "Now, look busy. They need not know of our intrusion."

~ * ~

By no means was the elder Malfoy alone in his talent for surveillance charms. Draco had listened to his classmates long enough to verify that Granger was not going to endanger his father's happiness. With a smirk, he transferred the charm to the other Slytherins, becoming incensed when the older wizards' discussion turned to him. But no, they were only looking out for his well being.

The hinted suggestion of a buried attraction to the Gryffindor witch caused Draco's breath to catch in his throat. Was that why he was always so much harder on Granger than the other Gryffies or Muggle-borns? The thought merited careful consideration.

And just maybe his father had a decent idea. Not that Draco would admit to listening to either conversation. But a well-placed comment, a subtle hint, maybe using Harry's new look as incentive... If she would let him near her without cursing him. It was worth investigation, at least.

Quietly closing the bathroom door behind him, Draco moved toward the kitchen to summon Dobby for a late snack. His expression thoughtful, the blond was only distantly aware of his classmates' return from the garden.

~ * ~

Harry and Hermione came back inside, arm in arm, both vastly relieved after their talk. A quick check showed the older wizards in quiet study over a few old scrolls, and Harry was loath to disrupt them. The Gryffindors continued to the kitchen, hearing a soft pop just before they entered the room.

On the table lay a large selection of late night treats, with Draco snagging bites of various sweets from his usual seat.

"Well, don't just stand there. Pull up a chair and help me make a dent in this," the blond begged, rolling his eyes in false exasperation. "I swear, Dobby must think I'm about to waste away."

Hermione wanted to say something about house elf rights, but she had made a promise to 'play nice'. Seeing his friend's agitation, Harry attempted to divert the threat of another argument.

"I didn't know you still talked to Dobby, Draco."

"Hmm? Oh yes, even after he was freed from our house." Almost absently, the blond confessed, "Dobby was a general house elf, but he always seemed to be available for me. Even after your ploy with the sock -- a most ingenious move, Potter -- he let me know that I would only need to call his name. I... would have missed him, quite alot, had he not been at Hogwarts."

Hearing the all-too-human wistfulness in Draco's words, the ire went out of Hermione. How could she chastise him about enslavement when the blond obviously missed his... friend? Such a notion saddened the young woman. It was one thing to despise the foul treatment of a minority group, but this was far more personal. She almost wanted to hug away the sorrow from her classmate's wilted demeanor.

"Well, at least you still get to see him," Harry said, mirroring his friend's thoughts. "Dobby's been a big help these past few years."

"Mmm, yes, he's always been like that."

"Oh, he's brought carrot cake!" Hermione squealed, then blushed at her childish enthusiasm. Primly placing a slice on a plate, she took a seat and nibbled small bites of the desert.

Harry snickered at his friend's antics, grabbing biscuits and hot cocoa. "No need for manners here, 'Mione. You're surrounded by men again -- just let go and enjoy."

"Sure Granger, we'll have you belching a tune soon enough," Draco said with a wink. The witch's blush made him warm all over. "Bah, don't mind our teasing. Your manners are impeccable. I'm glad to see you like Dobby's cake too; normally he only fixed it on my birthday."

The blond's fond tone drew Hermione's attention. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched his impassive expression melt into something... tender. Yet another aspect to her school foe, and another facade ripped away. How hard must it be to subsume one's personality behind the cold, cruel mask of a Slytherin elitist? Her heart ached at the thought.

Draco watched the play of emotions on Granger's face carefully. He wasn't lying or exaggerating at all, but he also wasn't above using the harsh truth to draw the witch away from her comfortable hatred of him. And with her softened, it seemed a good time for...

"Hey Potter, have you shown off your new wardrobe yet?" His attention turned to Hermione, a sly grin in place. "Never would've believed it, but your friend here let me play dress-up with him. I finally got rid of those horrible cowlicks." For good measure, he laughed aloud at the mock glare on Harry's face.

Fake irritation turned to easy satisfaction, as Harry told his favorite witch, "Yeah, it started out with me pranking him, then Draco 'got even' with a make-over while I napped. But we called a truce after I saw his handiwork." Standing to turn a full circle, he continued, "Not too bad, huh? And you should see my new clothes! No more of Dudley's hand-me-downs."

Whatever irritation she wanted to feel, out of loyalty to her best friend, Hermione couldn't deny the justifiable smugness on Draco's face. All it took was a good long inspection of Harry's happy acceptance of his new appearance, and Hermione would have gladly kissed the artist responsible. That the perpetrator was Draco Malfoy mattered very little.

"Very nice, Harry," she beamed at the preening brunet, then turned to address a slightly worried blond. "Draco, I'm impressed. Regardless of how you did it, Harry has long needed someone to deal with his wardrobe. And his hair, thank Merlin! I'm not sure about the glitter, but overall it looks so much better." She gave him a true smile, free of any lingering animosity.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he returned with a grin of his own. And just maybe now was a good time to offer... "Thank you. Hermione." He said her name softly, keeping close watch to make sure she approved of the familiarity. "I learned a vast assortment of charms from my mother. Quite a few for hairdressing, a number of simple glamours, plus the general sort to tidy clothes. Potty's hair terror was hardly work, but satisfying all the same."

Hermione's face took on a 'Quiet, let me think' expression. After a moment's consideration, and another quick glance at Harry's changed appearance, she took the bait with open eyes. "If that's an offer, Draco Malfoy, I accept." Tugging a handful of bushy hair, she grimaced at the mass of it. "Do your worst."

Draco's eyes sparkled, accepting the challenge. He exchanged a smirk with Harry. "As you wish, m'lady."

Brown eyes went round, and Hermione looked frantically at her best friend. Yes, Harry had heard the same -- her favorite line from her favorite book. If the Slytherin kept this up, she just might learn to like the little ferret.

Inclining her head in regal acknowledgment, Hermione accepted both the offer of fashion advice... and the olive branch of peace. She didn't need to witness Harry's blinding smile to know that her best friend was happy with her decision -- the whole atmosphere of the kitchen warmed with his good mood. And that, she felt, was worth entrusting her very soul to the Slippery Slytherin Prince.

~ * ~

**Chapter Twenty-Four : Seeing What Lies Beneath**

Thanks to a quick transfiguration (and wasn't Hermione pleased to be able to use magic for that!), the parlor's sofa-turned-bed allowed for a wonderful night's sleep. Granted, it took almost an hour before her scrambled thoughts would allow sleep to come, but Hermione was used to that occurance.

So Harry was involved with Snape and Malfoy Senior. No, more basic than that -- he was involved with two men. The concept whipped through her in a whirlwind. If she was honest, it came as little surprise. The unfortunate incident with Cho Chang, compounded by Harry's less than comfortable reactions to Ginny, led her to believe that he might not be best suited with a girl.

But two men at once? And those two men specifically? The mind boggled.

Beneath these irksome questions, the overwhelming change in all three Slytherins' personalities had her completely befuddled. She had never assumed the same prejudice as her classmates about the strict Potions Master, but to see him like this -- caring, tender, almost *gasp* playful -- was an earth-shaking revelation.

Then there was Lucius Malfoy. Had someone asked her just that afternoon if the Malfoy patriarch had any redeeming qualities, Hermione would have laughed in derision. It almost seemed as if an entirely different person was inhabiting his body. The wizard who had spoken with her tonight was... warm, relaxed, even welcoming. He reminded her vaguely of Remus Lupin. What a bizarre notion!

The most troubling change (from the perspective of six years of torment) was with Draco Malfoy. True, she could just ignore him since he wasn't one of the men involved with her best friend, but that would hardly solve anything. Harry -- one of the few people she could count as a true, close friend -- had openly stated a desire to call truse with the formally antagonistic Slytherin. Formerly. That said it best. For all the name-calling and hurtful words, for every sabotagued potion or spell, Draco Malfoy was not the petty little tyrant he projects at school. Hermione wondered if she could forgive and forget like Harry had.

It didn't escape her notice that the projects for which she had been invited to researc fell low on her list of thoughts. Honestly, how could she concentrate on spells when her worldview had been thrown into a blender?

When she finally succumbed to sleep, Hermione's dreams nearly sent her into panic. Visions of Harry and Lucius and Severus, kissing and worse, made her breath quicken and her pulse race. Overlapping such voyeuristic scenes was a recurring image of herself and... someone. She refused to focus on his face or voice, almost afraid of his identity.

Sometime near dawn, her dreams tapered off and welcomed the deep rest of dreamless slumber.

~ * ~

Harry woke from his fourth night at the safehouse, refreshed and at ease with his surroundings. Minutes later, he was dressed and ready to start breakfast, unsurprised with he nearly ran into Hermione on their way to the kitchen. Together the two Gryffindors fixed the meal, and had finished the first pot of tea before the two older wizards joined them.

"Good morning, Harry, Hermione." Even fresh from bed, Lucius' cultured voice was a subtle purr. Severus needed a few cups of singe-your-eyebrows strong tea before he joined the greetings.

When Draco stumbled into the room, Harry nudged his friend and winked evilly. "Wanna see something really funny?"

"Oh Harry, do grow up. Just because some people can't wake up alert and bouncy, there's no reason to torment them."

"Aww 'Mione, lemme have some fun!"

"Harry James Potter, you will **not** add anything to his food, cast any hex or jinx, or otherwise abuse the feeble mental capacities of our resident ferret." With a mischievous smirk of her own, she continued, "Besides, I'm sure the Ministry of Magic would look down upon mistreatment of household pets."

Harry snorted tea through his nose, joined by Lucius. Eyes narrowing dangerous, Daddy Malfoy made a weak attempt to defend his clueless offspring. "Miss Granger, I'll have you know that Draco is most certainly not a pet. If anything, he would be classified as a magical creature."

Hermione coughed into her napkin, gasping to keep from laughing too hard. 

"Indeed, he would fall into that catagory," Severus joined the fun. "Only magical animals have the ability to waste so much time and effort in using charms to beautify themselves."

And the battle was lost. Full-throated laughter filled the room, made worse when Hermione noticed their target was still inhaling his meal, with eyes closed.

~ * ~

Paybacks were expected, naturally, but Draco appeared to have no memory of being deemed their resident pet.

Somewhere around half nine, well after everyone else had begun the day's research, silver eyes found their focus and the younger blond dragged a complaining Hermione from the study. Half-panicked cries for someone to 'save me from the deranged rodent' followed the pair down the hall, before a door shutting ended the plea for help.

Harry snickered at his best friend's dilemna -- she had agreed, after all. He caught the dual expectant looks from his... lovers (and when would he stop stumbling over the word?), and recounted the previous night's conversation.

Assured of immediate privacy, Lucius glided over to his younger lover, purring, "Harry... you haven't said a proper good morning to us yet."

Blushing beet red, the Gryffindor tilted his face to meet Lucius' lips. The first gentle slide of lip to lip sent fireworks down his spine, and Harry gasped against his lover's mouth. As any good Slytherin, Luc took advantage of the proferred opening, slipping his tongue in to stroke against Harry's.

A whisper near his earlobe issued the admonishment, "Lucius, do try not to deprive Mr. Potter of his sense before I have had a taste."

Were Harry able to find his voice, he would have objected... until a second pair of lips met his. More flavor hit his tastebuds, a stronger caress mapped the roof of his mouth. Severus, a tiny voice in the back of his mind supplied, logging the new data to memory. The differences were easy to determine: where Luc was teasing, coaxing, Sev's kiss demanded his full attention. Harry found himself wanting to spend a lifetime simply catagorizing the details of his lovers' ( _lovers!_ he could say it, think it) kissing techniques.

By the time the older wizards finished their first exploration of his tonsils, Harry was light-headed. "Air. Important? No. More!"

Chuckling, Severus held his new lover in gentle arms, forcing him to breathe before allowing another kiss. Lucius understood the reasoning behind such patience, contenting himself with one hand in the teen's hair, the other holding his friend by one cheek.

Harry wanted nothing less than an eternity of those breathtaking kisses. His nether regions promised greater delights if only he were to rid them of clothes, but their vote was overruled. Later, he told his impatient prick, there's no rush... See how much they want me? No one's ever been so...

The internal battle was called to a halt when Luc once more captured his full attention, and his mouth, in a soul melting kiss, forcing Severus to chose a different target. Lips and teeth nibbled along his neck, up to his left earlobe. And Harry, and his insistant erection, found themselves doubly distracted. Spontaneous eruption imminent, he could only moan approval as four hands learned his chest, back, hips. A vivid flashblack of his dream translated into reality.

From the bottom of a deep well of sensation, words broke through Harry's passion-clouded mind.

"Are we going too fast, love?"

One part said yes, please give me time to figure it all out. Another voice voted -- rather loudly -- for more, to never stop. Harry stubbornly told his infatuated cock to go back to sleep, carefully untangling from his temptors' arms.

"Probably," he rasped out, startled by how hoarse his voice sounded. Seconds later, Harry cursed his sense of propriety for leaving him cold and alone, as both Slytherins backed away by a good foot. All he wanted was to fly back into their embrace, but he needed time. To think. To convince himself that it was real. To believe he deserved something that felt so good, so perfect.

As if reading his thoughts, Severus stepped closer, winding his arms around the young man and just... holding him. "Harry, never be afraid to say 'stop'. Neither Lucius nor I are irresponsible teens. If you need us to back off, you must speak up."

"Yes love, don't let us push you beyond what you're ready for," Lucius added, quietly apologetic. He joined the huddle, weaving his arms around both brunets. "We aren't going to run away, Harry."

Had he spoken his fears aloud? Harry didn't think so, but he couldn't remember. Thinking was too difficult a task when either of his lovers was touching him, even a simple comforting hug. He sighed in contentment and snuggled closer, opting to soak up their warmth and ignore his worries for the time.

~ * ~

"You promise?"

"Of course! A Malfoy's word is worth all the gold in Gringotts."

"But... won't it hurt?"

"Maybe at first, but it'll be incredible before we're done."

"It sounds so... messy."

"Well, yes, but there are spells to clean up afterwards."

"Why now? Why **me**? You've always hated me."

"Never hated you, pet. And look at this bounty! What sane person wouldn't want to wrap themselves up in you, and never find a way out?"

"Draco Malfoy, are you still talking about my hair? Or have your hormones taken over..."

"Er. Let me get back to you on that."

"Fine, I'll let you shape my eyebrows and style my hair. But no waxing til I've read up on the spell!"

"'Mione, you're taking all the joy out of the room."

"Over-dramatic, pompous, self-serving git."

"What's that you say? You want to go blond?"

"I'm sorry! I'm sure you're a very pleasant person with loads of redeeming qualities."

"And I'm kind to small animals too."

"Only because you've walked in their shoes."

"Oh, you say you'd like a bikini wax as well?"

"Hmph! Can't even tease you til we're done then. Talk about 'sucking the joy'."

"Sweetling, best not to discuss 'sucking' just now. My attention might move from these scissors, and that would just be tragic."

...

"Mmm, you're adorable when you blush."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

~ * ~

It was almost three hours after the party had separated that Draco led his latest masterpiece back into the study. He knocked on the door, waiting for approval before opening it -- he would not soon forget walking in on his father's naked body twined around his mentor, and while the overall picture was nowhere close to horrifying, there was something very wrong with his libido's reaction.

The audience of three were sitting on the sofa, quietly going over a few pieces of parchment and cross-referencing with some old, moldy texts. Harry's head laid comfortably against Lucius' shoulder, while his legs were thrown across Severus' lap. Hearing the knock, he attempted to straighten his posture into a less incriminating position, but was kept in place by his lovers (and yes, the word still sent shivers through his body).

With all his considerable dramatic flair, the younger blond entered the room, announcing to his audience, "Gentlemen, it is with great pleasure that I bring you the unveiling of..." a pause for suspense "... Miss Hermione Granger, my finest work to date."

On that note, as prompted, the Gryffindor witch entered the room. She took in the reactions from all three men, inwardly preening under their appreciative stares. However Draco had managed to transform her plain jeans, button-up oxford shirt and loafers into this masterpiece, she didn't want to know. She felt... like a wanton vixen, a purely sensual creature of passion and poise. No longer was she simply the walking encyclopedia -- all it took was entrusting her appearance to a single Slytherin, and she was a new woman. Correction: for once, she _felt_ like a woman, instead of the shy bookworm always taken for granted.

Loafters transfigured into shiny black leather boots with three inch heals, enough to accentuate her legs without making her terribly awkward. Gone were the crisp jeans, replaced with softest suade in deep blood red that hugged her legs and hips as if made specifically to show every curve off in loving detail. The simple light blue oxford was forgotten, charmed into a plunging poet's shirt of red, gold and black paisley print -- its loose folds framed her breasts, lengthened her neck, and flowed sensually down her long arms, before it tucked into the waistband of her pants. A thick girdle-style belt kept trousers and blouse in place, showing off her trim waist and the flare of her hips. 

A light blush shaded her cheeks, with glossy lipstick in a matching red to bring attention to her mouth. The bold colour fought a losing battle with her eyes, however; glimmering shadow of golden browns accented her almond-shaped eyes, with an upswept line on the outer edge to give her a feline look. 

Regardless of his threats to butcher her mass of bushy curls, Draco had tamed her hair with the simple expedient of a spiral curl charm -- the effect was... inspired. Falling down almost to her arse, Hermione's hair felt light and looked simply stunning. She had even agreed (eventually) to let him put a muted highlight on it, adding layers of shadows-and-light play to the normal mousy brown. Now there were thin streaks of honeyed gold and rich bronze, giving her a more mature and infinitely more _feminine_ appearance. Her blunt-cropped bangs were lengthened and spelled into place, framing her sweetheart shaped face in the most becoming manner.

All said, Hermione was beyond impressed. If she wasn't afraid of inflating his ego to epic proportions, she would bow down and kiss Draco's feet. But that impulse passed quickly enough. She vowed to herself to be a bit nicer to the Slytherin, though; he had definitely earned a reprieve after his awe-inspiring efforts.

And speaking of ego boosts, the looks she received from Harry and his mates almost made her blush in pleasure. She had often made fun of fawning boys at school -- most notibly Ron, but none of her male classmates were immune -- for letting their mouths hang open and drool over a pretty face. More accurately, a pretty bum, set of tits, or shapely thigh. If this was how it made those girls feel to be slobbered about, Hermione would have to apologize to the various girls of her acquaintence. She felt... like a fine piece of artwork, placed high on a pedestal and appreciated by the adoring public. Yes, she definitely needed to be kinder to Draco Malfoy.

"Her-moine? My gods, you look... feckin' incredible!" Harry's eyes were as wide as saucers, but his mouth eventually closed to form words. Stumbling off the couch, he slowly made his way over to his friend... but detoured before reaching the witch. Draco's eyes flew open in surprise when he found himself the recipient of a crushing hug from the Boy-Who-Lived. Whispered so softly that no one else could catch, he thanked the blond, "She looks perfect, Draco. And it's easy to see how much better she feels about herself. I can never thank you enough for giving this to my 'Mione."

He released the shaken Slytherin and carefully hugged his best friend. "Don't want to muss you, 'Mione. Gods, you look so damned hot." Harry picked up the young woman and twirled her around a few times. Grinning over his shoulder to their hosts, he gave them an evil little smile. "Y'know what this means, right?" A pause for effect, with the blonds reacting first -- sparkling grey eyes lit with approval. "Another shopping trip! And don't argue, Hermione Granger, it's my treat. Consider it a combination of birthday, graduation, and yule present."

Severus rolled his eyes, sighing over the situation. He couldn't honestly disagree with his young lover's enthusiasm, or disregard the remarkable change in the witch's appearance. It would be a waste of one more day of training, true, but the probable benefits more than made up for that. If the two Gryffindors were secure enough in the presence of the three Slytherin icons, then it would make for a more conducive environment to training and research. Having made that conclusion, he issued his verdict.

"Very well, if you three will attend to whatever matters are necessary before departure, we will take this afternoon off and indulge in another trip to the-" *shudder* "-mall. Lucius, I trust you can make yourself presentable in short order." With a nod to the group, Severus swept from the room. His usual teaching robes were missing, taking away from the overall effect, but his manner still demanded respect. Or it would have, had the group not seen his very thorough examination of Hermione's backside on his way out the door.

Snickering, Harry pulled Hermione back into a hug. "We're gonna have a blast! And a word of advice: let Luc and Draco pick everything out for you. They're wonderful at that fashion stuff, you've seen what they did for my wardrobe." In a flash, he switched targets and grabbed the blond again. "And you. I apologize for the tobasco and cumin, and for the itching powder and blue hair dye too."

"Uh Harry, there hasn't been an incident involving blue hair dye or itching powder."

"Not yet. So I'm apologizing in advance."

A smirk thrown his way, Draco huffed out of his classmate's arms and stomped from the room, dragging Hermione with him. "I see how you are. Just for that, I'm taking the chit hostage." And laughing maniacally, he did just that. Hermione's squeals of glee rather ruined the exit.

"Harry, love, I'm so very glad that you are pleased with Draco's talents... but isn't this going a bit over the top?" Luc's arms wound around the brunet's waist, his nose nuzzling behind a tender earlobe. "Our dear Severus seems a bit disappointed about this change of plans."

Immediately, Harry's face fell into remorse. "Oh damn, I'm so sorry, I didn't think! Should we not go today? It can wait till just before term, I guess... But... Fuck! Need to find Sev..."

Trying to unwrap the blond octopus, Harry was held tight. "None of that, dearling. Severus simply needs to learn how to adapt to a more extensive family. He's spent years planning only for himself, alone and lonely and so strictly self-reliant that he would permit no one else to interfere with his schedule. The recent developments between us three, along with acknowledging Hermione's role in your life, has expanded his world and shaken it a bit. But he'll be fine soon enough." Lucius took the brunet's face between strong hands. "Harry, you need to stop worrying about everyone else. You get so few chances to act spontaneously, to be a young person without the weight of the world on your shoulders. Severus would no more want you to waste this opportunity than he would cut off his wand arm. Now go, get ready for our outing. I'll find the overbearing bat and bring him to roost."

Being shoved out into the hallway, Harry almost contradicted the suggestion, wanting to make amends with Sev. Almost. He thought for a moment about Lucius' words, and had to agree that it was something his darker lover had also expressed a wish for. With a somewhat lighter heart, he followed the sounds of laughter indicating his classmates' position.

~ * ~

"Severus?"

"Yes Luc, I'm in here. And before you start, I am fully aware that this will do our Harry a world of good. Years of teaching have ingrained a certain set of habits, however; when education is placed below a shopping trip... it automatically turns my temper."

The elder blond found his friend stuffing his bottomless pockets with various safeguards for their excursion. Just as he'd expected, Lucius saw little antipathy in Severus' demeanor. Relieved, he shut the bedroom door and wrapped himself across his lover's back. "Of course it does, love. And you wouldn't be you without such high expectations. I for one am glad that Harry feels comfortable enough with us to let himself _want_ to act his age for a short time. That Hermione and Draco are agreeable is a pleasant bonus."

"Yes, certainly." Sighing, he leaned back into the safe warmth of his lover. "Luc, I am not upset. My... less than graceful departure was due more to jealousy than anger over changed plans."

"Jealousy? But Sev-"

"Luc, it is an utterly ridiculous notion, nothing more. Miss Granger's visit simply triggered a few less than pleasant memories for me."

"Oh lovey, I am so sorry-"

"No. Lucius, you mustn't venture into the past. It is difficult enough for me to distance myself from such things without having to concern myself with your worries as well."

"Nevertheless, you will have my apology." Turning his old friend around to speak face to face, the blond kissed stiff lips tenderly, attempting to express what mere words would not convey. "For too many years, I followed my father's expectations. A pureblood wife of impeccable ancestry, a fine male heir to carry on the family name, the image of power and prestige. My only excuse is youthful arrogance, topped with a healthy dose of cowardice. As long as my father lived, I could not find the strength to go against his wishes. Perhaps I flatter myself to think that, if I had to relive the last twenty years, I would easily shake off his influence. Perhaps Draco would have a different set of parents. Perhaps... it would not have taken so long for me to see how poisonous the Dark Lord's demands are."

A deep breath, and silver eyes caught darkest brown. "Severus Snape, I have loved you for all of my mature life. It might easily take the next hundred years for me to make amends for all the injury I have caused you, but I will gladly offer everything to such a cause. You are... "

"My world." Severus' voice was choked with emotion. He had often wondered why he had never been enough to satisfy his lover. So many questions and doubts that had turned him into a bitter shell of the passionate young man he had once been. To hear that he was not to blame for the wasted years between them... it bolstered his fractured soul. "And it would seem that Harry Potter is also a part of that world. For us both."

The unspoken question demanded affirmation. "Most assuredly. Sev, I would no more risk what is between us than renounce my only son. If you have any misgivings about our budding affair with Harry, you must tell me now, before we are in so deep we cannot break away without risking-"

"No Luc. As much as it prickles my conscience to become... involved with a student, I cannot see turning away from whatever is happening with Harry. It defies explanation, but I feel almost as strongly for him as you."

"As do I. As if we are finally where we all belong. The missing piece to the puzzle of our long relationship."

"Exactly."

For several long minutes, the two wizards stood wrapped in each other, offering and accepting comfort, reassurances long needed for both men. Finally, they separated with one last hard kiss as their charges called them back to the present. And if the tiny lines of tension around the dour Potions Master's face were lessened, if the aristocrat's cold mask was thinned by warmth, none of the teens made mention of it. Each noticed certain looks passing between the older wizards, and were approved whole-heartedly.

~ * ~


	9. Chapters Twenty-five through Twenty-seven

  
Author's notes: Another shopping trip, and Draco terrifies everyone by learning how to cook.  


* * *

All disclaimers, notes and random information can still be found on page one of this story.

~ * ~

**Chapter Twenty-Five: My Best Friend is a Talking Cat**

The somber mood of their elders lifted by the time the group reached the local shopping centre. 

Hermione, being more observant than her friend, was the first to notice how much more... relaxed her teacher looked. She added up a few tidbits of prior knowledge, coming to the conclusion that her professor and the older Malfoy had put away some old hurts. It was hardly her business, of course, but since these two men were involved with her best friend, she would continue to watch them. Nothing could happen to hurt Harry, nothing she might be able to prevent.

The wizard in question saw much the same as his friend. He wondered what had passed between his lovers behind their closed door, and worried that it might be his presence in their lives that was causing such discord. Only after catching Lucius' questioning gaze did he feel lighter; the warmth of deep caring directed his way was free from any imagined wrongdoings. Harry returned a small smile, making sure to include Severus in the gesture. No lingering signs of upset remained on the Potions Master's face, and Harry breathed an internal sigh of relief.

Walking two steps behind the party, Draco rolled his eyes toward heaven. If the fate of the magical world was truly in the hands of this group, he would have to step in and make sure they didn't muck it up with their juvenile misunderstandings. Really, did no one speak their mind anymore? Before his rant took firm hold, the blond's eyes lit on the gentle sway of a certain Muggle-born's tush. Thoroughly distracted, he walked faster and placed himself at her side with a friendly grin on his face. He had no idea who the gods had in mind for his mate, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy an attractive young lady's presence in the meantime.

"Real subtle, ferret." Harry's voice floated into his ear, so soft it wasn't heard by the others. "If you hurt her, you won't have to worry about Snake Face's wrath." A sharp nod acknowledged the open threat.

As Draco engaged Hermione in inane conversation, the Gryffindor Seeker slowed his pace to join the older men. He slithered his arms around their waists, bringing them hip to hip as they walked down the street. "And no, before either of you ask, I don't really care what anyone says about us. I refuse to be ashamed of whatever's happening between us." Cuddling against their solid bodies, Harry let himself soak in their obvious pleasure at his announcement. 

The last remnants of doubt faded from Severus' mind with his younger lover's reassurance. Such a new and strange sensation, the public acknowledgment of their status. His heart warmed more toward the young hero from such a simple act of acceptance. Long fingers gently stroked across the back of his neck, and he glanced at their owner -- Lucius was perceptive as ever, and silently offering a promise to follow their new lover's lead. 

~ * ~

Their second visit to the mall began more solemn than the first. At least, it was until Draco caught sight of the new fall line in young ladies' fashions that promised miles of leather and silk. 

From that point, Hermione was often forced to recall her earlier statement of allowing the Malfoy men to do what they would with her. The wicked twinkle in silver eyes kept her off-balance and blushing. She wanted to respond to the blatant challenge, but had so little experience with flirtations that her laudable vocabulary hid in a back corner of her mind. Much to her disgust, Harry was no help in fielding the blond's open appreciation, even as he went so far as to join in the thorough (and very verbal) listing of her attributes. At least, she mentally muttered, Lucius wasn't adding to her embarassment. She threw a silent appeal toward the older men, but other than expressing opinions on this outfit or that, the dark wizards kept a safe distance between themselves and the trio of teen shoppers.

After the first hour, Harry joined his lovers on the sidelines. They took turns shrinking packages when no Muggles were watching, whispering comments and trailing soft touches to each other. Following a hyperspeed Draco and bewildered Hermione from one shop to the next, Harry had to appreciate the amount of patience Severus had shown on their previous trip. His feet ached just thinking how much more there was to endure.

The only snag in their plans happened when Hermione was dragged into the jewelry shop. She angrily hissed, "There is no way you're going to spend so much on me, Harry Potter. The clothes and shoes are already too much, I refuse to allow you to go this far."

"'Mione, listen. There's loads of uses for this stuff-"

"No Harry, I won't let you do it."

Cutting the witch off, Draco placed a hand over her mouth, shivering slightly at the instant charge pouring through him at the simple touch. "Hermione, we have already purchased a fair quantity of more masculine gems for some of our... projects. If we are to include you in these plans, you should permit at least a few baubles more appropriate for a beautiful young woman."

Six years of habit had her eyes flashing in temper before she witnessed the honest admiration on her classmate's face. In a heartbeat, Hermione's ire fled, although she still was not convinced. Before she could continue the argument, another voice broke in.

"Miss Granger, it would be prudent to select no fewer than three pairs of earrings, four necklaces, and an equal number of rings. While I cannot recall you wearing much jewelry in the past, it would look odd for your new appearance if you did not complement it with the appropriate accesories."

"Lucius, really, I can find costume jewelry for much less-"

"Take a moment to consider, Miss Granger. I believe you were informed of Harry's research, yes? The same applies to you." Severus waited for the witch's quick mind to fill in the blanks. When her eyes showed understanding, he put an end to the debate, "As such, you shall need the items Lucius suggested -- or more -- with which to work. Between the four of us, today's receipts are hardly a trial on our resources. If you have further reservations, think on it as an... investment toward the upcoming tasks."

After her respected teacher's words soaked in, Hermione could no longer object as strenuously. She wandered over to the trays of loose gems, just as Harry had done only days ago, and began to match semi-precious stones. With her best friend offering suggestions, the Boy-Who-Lived motioned for the Malfoy men to find the best selection for his favorite girl's new look. She might be upset with him later, but Harry felt justified in his subterfuge; they were going to place as many enchantments as possible to safeguard his family for the war, whether she liked it or not.

~ * ~

"Honestly, you four are worse than Lavendar and Parvarti! Don't you have any idea of how long it takes those bird-brained trollops to get dressed every morning? I refuse to join the ranks of boy-crazy, boy-chasing twits."

Draco rolled his eyes in exasperation. This tirade had been going on for the past hour, ever since the packmules had unloaded their pockets and enlarged the mountain of bags. In all his years of being dragged from one boutique to another by his mother (and later, assorted Slytherin girls in need of a chaperone), he had never encountered a female who protested so much over acquiring a new wardrobe. And yes, of course, women's fashions meant that they accumulated a much greater selection than men -- how could she compare her bounty to Harry's? Good Merlin, that witch had a set of lungs on her! That they were encased in such a delightful package was just icing on the cake.

"Thanks for going off on a tangent, Malfoy," Harry nudged his rival none-too-gently in the ribs. "If you can possibly look above her chest for a minute, we could use your help here."

"Hmph! Is it my fault that Granger turned out so... alluring?" A quick flip of his hair moved the silver fop out of his eye. "And how exactly do you expect me to help out? She hasn't listened to you, her best friend."

"Exactly. But you are her... creator, in a way, right?"

Well. That was certainly an interesting thought.

"Hermione," slithering toward the vibrating witch, Draco carefully caught her attention. "There has always been an injustice between men's fashion and women's, yet no amount of complaints will alter the fact. If you truly do not wish to be burdened with this mess, we can take it all back. Your seventh and final year at Hogwarts will proceed as every year before, and you will be no worse for it." He didn't miss the sly expression of thought on Harry's face, glad that the Gryffindork wasn't _that_ slow on the uptake. "Absolutely nothing will change. But is that really what you want?"

Bewildered at the change in tactics, Hermione could only stare at the blond for a long minute. His words wormed their way into her subconscious, teasing the feminine ego she had never paid attention to in the past.

"This is a golden opportunity for you to disabuse the common mortals of your status in the world. How often are you taken for granted as being useful, but not date material? Such a fine mind, everyone wants your help with homework and revision... but they never see you as a person, do they. Without seeming forward, I must assure you that this new, improved Hermione Granger will be the shining star of Hogwarts. None can compare to how beautiful you are, when you bother spending a half hour on the simple charms I showed you, and one of the delicious outfits we found today. You've already set records with your brilliant mind, Hermione -- no one doubts how intellegent you are. This is the perfect chance for you to burn your mark on the minds of everyone as more than the class bookworm."

Harry coughed, covering up his muttered comment, "Suck-up."

Naturally, when the know-it-all was in fine form, nothing passed her attention. "Thank you, Harry, for bringing home how outrageous this whole argument is." Hermione turned her full stare on the blond. "And Draco, I do see what you're getting at, and I will promise to think it over. For now, just know that I am less than pleased that none of you listened when I said 'enough', alright? Stampeding over my wishes is hardly going to get you brownie points. Even if your intentions were good."

She finished with a half-smile, and all three Slytherins breathed more easily. The tempest had calmed.

"Don't think that I'll forget anytime soon though."

Leaning in for a none-too-subtle whisper at his lovers, Harry voiced what all three were thinking. "And this is reason number one on why gay men go grey later than heterosexuals."

~ * ~

Another wardrobe, magically enhanced to hold and sort and catagorize anything it held, was added to the household. It looked a bit out of place in the parlor, but without a proper guest room they had little choice. Confining movents thanks to the transfigured bed, the group had determined that any meeting should be held in the study where all their supplies were stored.

Grinning self-consciously, Harry joked, "Well, if my magic explodes again, maybe I should try to enlarge the house. Uh... after everyone gets out of it first."

"Let us hope that you are not provoked in such a manner again, Harry," Severus scolded even as he opened his arms for his younger lover. "However beneficial such an undertaking might be, I would not wish you to endure the emotional drain that begins the cycle."

"Quite right. And before we divert to yet another distraction, shall we begin the research now?" Despite his proper suggestion, Lucius' arrival at his lovers' side prompted both brunets to jump in surprise. Aristocratic hands worked much the same as anyone else's when they groped arse cheeks, after all.

"Honestly, my mother was so right. Boys never really grow up -- they just get bigger, have larger eating capacities, and desire more expensive toys."

Harry glanced guiltily at his friend, and a terrible thought hit him. Expensive toys... wouldn't that qualify him? 

A sharp smack to the back of his head forced the Gryffindor to break his train of thought. "Don't try it, Potter. That sort of 'toy' is used for an easy shag in some cheap hotel. As far as I can tell, you are neither easy nor cheap, unless you've managed to remember silencing charms for the shagging part."

"Right, thanks Dray."

"Dray? What sort of name is that?"

"A better nickname than Draco or ferret-boy. Unless you want me to tell Hermione what your full name is?"

"Erk, no need for that, Harry. My father's been telling tales again, has he?"

"Well yeah, but that's a story for later. Right now, we've been summoned to crack open old moldy books for hours of meaningful study into methods of torturing a certain Dark Lard-Arse."

"uh..."

Their sniping banter was broken by Hermione's presence. "Alright boys, enough playing around. Let's join the old folks now, and maybe we can make some use of my special project from last year."

"Special project? Is that where you disappeared during Quidditch practice?"

"Yes, and any other time I could steal away from Gryffindor Tower."

"This should be good. Draco, you might be the ultimate Slytherin, but my best girl's got a mind more devious than any of your housemates."

Flushing from the compliment, Hermione pushed her arms through both young wizards' and led them to their destination. They found the elder men already surrounded by ancient tomes and mounds of parchment, barely looking up when the chattering trio of students entered the room.

"Professor Snape, before we get too far, perhaps now is a good time to test my potion?"

Severus started at his title being used in this informal setting. He quickly recalled the hours of labor spent monitoring Granger's experiment, and his eventual approval of its effectiveness. "Actually, Hermione," he began, stressing her given name, "I believe it to be the perfect time. We had briefly discussed adding the topic to this summer's training."

With a grin, Hermione reached deep into her bottomless satchel and pulled out a bottle of murky brown liquid. She looked around the room before settling on a few scraps of paper, transfiguring them into shot glasses. Five glasses, to be precise. The arched eyebrows of the older men prompted a rather wicked giggle from the witch, and she poured out the suggested amounts. "Alright everyone, bottoms up!"

Harry looked at the... sludge. It didn't look back, but that was precious little encouragement. "You want us to drink *that*? Bloody hell, 'Mione, what're you trying to do to us this time?"

In reply, she glared at her friend and slugged back the shot of potion. Seconds later, a large golden lynx sat in her place. All four wizards found their mouths on the floor (although Severus knew he should not have been surprised that the smartest witch of her generation had succeeded where many others had failed). 

Harry bounced in place when he figured out what his wonderfully bright friend had done, then tossed his hair away from his mouth and slurped his own dose of Animagus Revealing potion. His stomach felt like he had swallowed slivers of ice, and the freezing sensation filled his blood. His eyes swam out of focus as if someone had knocked his glasses off his face, and his center of gravity went... wonky. Three gasps of surprise sounded from high above him, and he swiveled his head to look at the... massive humans.

Summoning a full-length mirror, Draco placed it in easy reach for both Gryffindors. Hermione beat her friend by brute force, shoving him out of the way to see what animal she would become. A deep, rumbling purr of satisfaction rolled through the room when she saw her reflection. Her tail lashed, nearly knocking over the other non-human in his efforts to share the mirror with her. A very primal urge to pounce flashed through her mind before she could control it, and she pounced.

Danger! Blind instinct forced Harry into motion before razor-sharp claws reached him. One, two, three mighty thrusts of air beneath his wings took him out of mortal peril, a piercing cry of challenge quick to follow. His target in sight, Harry's body tensed in preparation for combat... and he froze. The crouched feline was his best friend, Hermione, not some wild beast. Still, better to err on the side of caution, he landed on the back of the tall wingback chair across the room from her.

"Well, that was certainly an inspired act. What say we wait until these two have regained their human forms before we take our turns?" Draco looked slightly shaken, eyes dancing between the large wildcat and almost as big bird of prey. "What sort of bird is he, Father?"

"I couldn't say, Draco. Some sort of hunting hawk, from his size, but I was never much on the sport."

After about fifteen minutes, both Gryffindors changed back to themselves. Hermione immediately threw herself at her best friend, sobbing apologies. Harry stiffened for a moment, then made an attempt to comfort the witch. "It's alright, 'Mione. Just instinct, nothing we can't learn to control, right? And wow! You're just as beautiful in your Animagus form, all long and lean and golden. Have you gotten the paperwork together to patent your potion yet? I'm sure Severus knows how to file that sort of thing."

Leaving Hermione in calm hands, Draco stepped forward to take his turn, muttering, "If I turn into any sort of rodent, I shan't join the class in this study." So swearing, he slung his head back, grimacing as the nasty fluid slithered down his throat...

Admiring comments followed him as the young wizard trotted over to the summoned mirror. He took note almost at once that he could only see in black and white, figuring himself to be of the canine family. At least he wasn't a *shudder* ferret. His reflection showed pointy ears with tufts of fluffy fur edging them, a sharp snout with sharper teeth, and lean muscles encased in a white (or at least light-coloured) pelt. A fox, one of the larger varieties if he wasn't mistaken. He might just be able to deal with that. Certainly, the cunning and stealth of a fox was much more dignified that a smelly rodent. During his quarter hour of animal time, Draco pranced and preened around the room, sniffing everything that was within reach.

"If you are quite through, dear son, you can remove your nose from my pocket now." Lucius grabbed his heir by the scruff of the neck -- ignorning the very human yelp of outrage. "It would seem to be my turn, hmm?" With no further fanfare, he downed the potion and waited, shifting gracefully into his own coat of pure white fur. A deep growl echoed loudly throughout the room, replacing memory of his son's sharp yips. The power beneath his coat thrummed, beseeching him to run outdoors, to hunt and howl and be free of the confines of civilization. Pale eyes full of intellegence met his first glance in the mirror, and he inclined his silky head. A white Northern Timberwolf, very satisfactory. Unlike the young people, Lucius contented himself on sitting still; a testament to his strong will, when the call of the outdoors begged him to **_run_**.

"It's not fair," sulked the younger Malfoy. "Father's form is powerful and big enough to overtake a grown man. Hermione's too, and Harry's able to fly. And what's mine? Might as well be one of those nancy lapdogs."

"Oh hush, Malfoy, at least you aren't a ferret."

Even as the older blond was regaining his human body, Severus drank down his dose. A dark blur, low to the ground, caught everyone's attention, but before they could identify the species he had hidden behind the bookshelves. Sparkling black eyes glittered back at them, and a chittering sound mocked their efforts at flushing him out of his burrow. Mere seconds before his induced time in animal form ran out, he made a mad dash for the mirror to verify his suspicions. The deceptively smooth fur would be water-repelent, of course. His shape was made for lurking and hiding, getting through spaces few others would fit. Quite a good Animagus form for someone in his line of espionage.

"I'll be dipped in chocolate and called BonBon."

"That can be arranged."

"Well, at least I'm not the rodent around here."

"A mongoose! How very uesful, Professor."

~ * ~

**Chapter Twenty-Six : Elsewhere, Samewhen**

"Master, I have received a most interesting letter from Severus this morning." Fairly vibrating with manic energy, the dark witch dropped to one knee, hand outstretched to deliver the missive to her Lord. "He says that he might have encountered an ancient method of revitalization, a way to recover your youthful body."

Slitted red eyes focused on the parchment hungrily for a long moment before the Dark Lord ripped it out of Bellatrix LeStrange's hand. He rapidly scanned the text, easily reading between the lines to the heart of his spy's words. Grabbing the witch's long, matted hair, Voldemort pulled her face up to meet his eyes. "You will send word immediately that I require Snape's presence to explain his findings. Of all my followers, he alone has the trust of our adversaries, access to their archives. If Snape says he has discovered something useful, then I must hear him out."

Audience granted, Bella crept quickly from the room to relay her Master's orders.

~ * ~

Newly entitled Headmistress McGonagall reread her prospective deputy's letter a third time. She sighed in frustration, knowing that she had lost the first of innumerable arguments between them. With quirked eyebrow, she silently admitted (only to herself, and only in private quarters) that such an irascible person was exactly what she needed to keep her decidedly unbored.

"Very well, Severus. No decisions shall be made until we have confronted, er, conferred together." She jotted down a note to that effect, but paused before sending it off to the Head of Slytherin. "I do believe that our upcoming meeting will require two bottles of Rosemerta's finest." A second message followed, then both given to a school owl to deliver.

~ * ~

Humming happily as she tidied her kitchen, Molly Weasley had just set her dishes to dry when an unknown owl rapped against her back door. She let it in warily; it was obviously not bringing the newspaper, nor was it from her husband at the Ministry. The dark gray bird alit on the counter and waited for her to retrieve its burden.

She never bothered checking any mail that came to her house for names -- if it was delivered to the Burrow, she was always the first to see it. As the Weasley matriarch, it was her duty to keep up with everything that went on in her family's life. Naturally.

A small wrinkle formed on her forehead as Molly read the message, deepening at the veiled insults within. She plowed ahead and eventually let out a sigh of relief; dear Harry, he always was such a thoughtful lad. One corner of her mind filed away the fact that her adopted son was spending the summer under Severus Snape's tutelage, which must certainly be the reason for the professor's scathing remarks. Surely he didn't blame her for wanting her family safe, after all.

Turning to set out a bowl of water and some food for the owl, she realized it had left while she was reading. A soft snort and shrug, what else could be expected from the cranky Head of Slytherin? 

Molly glanced around the room and decided that it was clean enough. Her favorite program would begin soon on the wireless, giving just enough time to start a fresh pot of tea.

~ * ~

Another day, another breakfast routine. Hermione scolded Harry again when he tried to 'fix' Draco's meal. Harry grumped when the witch did it herself -- she felt the need to retaliate for the blond's teasing of the night before. The older men sat back and watched their charges with quiet amusement, most relieved that the long term rivalries were set aside for such relatively innocent jokes.

Research consisted of the necessary procedures for Harry's 'dolls', while Hermione sat apart, sucking gently on a sugar quill as she tried to manipulate her best friend's wishes into one final spell to finish off the Dark Lord. Lucius crouched over the desk putting the finishing touches on the fake scroll that Severus would present to their unwanted Master.

A single, sliver of ice blue showed through Draco's eyelashes, indicating that the younger blond's higher brain functions were attempting to come online. Being the only one not involved with readings, he was the first to see his aunt's raven soar through the open window and dive toward his Head of House.

"Well, don't just stare at it, Severus," he said, pushing up from his makeshift recliner. "Let's hear what Lord Weenie has to say." 

Peals of tinkling laughter met his misuse of the Dark Lord's many nicknames, and Draco found himself transfixed by the witch's happy face. He had no hand in her attire that morning, and was only just alert enough to take notice. Smiling in Hermione's direction, the blond was pleased to see her choice of snug mid-shin pants and off-shoulder blouse. While not as spectacular as the previous evening's leather and silk, it did much to accentuate the young woman's finer features. She made a very nice image first thing in the morning, he decided, then wondered how she might look before getting dressed for the day. Thankfully, the rest of the group were not looking his way to see Draco's flush of arousal.

"It would seem that our ploy is off to a fine start. I am required to appear with my findings this evening. Lucius, how close are you to finishing the antiquity charms?"

Not looking up from his work, the elder Malfoy grunted (elegantly, of course) to reply, "Almost done, Sev. Just a few last touches to prevent detection." A final swish of his wand. "I should like you all to test my work. No need to mention what Voldemort's reaction would be if he discovers our duplicity."

Severus barely repressed the shudder of fear his lover's words provoked. "Quite." He turned to the one female of the group, continuing, "Miss Granger, in all the years I have spent attempting to instill some small measure of knowledge into ignorant minds, I have yet to encounter a student as conscientious as yourself. If you would, please begin the testing. Throw everything you've got into dispelling Lucius' charms."

Stunned by the unequivocal praise from her most demanding teacher, Hermione stood on weak legs and proceeded toward the aged parchment on the desk. "Of course. I'll do my best, Professor."

To all appearances, the scroll looked several hundred years old, cracked and crumbling around the edges, yellowed with long age. At first glance, its words appeared to be an ancient Celtic dialect with some obscure tribal markings interspersed throughout. A soft gasp of surprise escaped as she saw several non-words _move_.

"Harry, would you come over here, please?"

None of her translation spells worked on the document, a most frustrating situation. While she waited for her friend to join the task, Hermione sifted through many mental filing cabinets before she located the appropriate language. Eirudesian -- a nomadic branch of the pre-Roman Celts rumored to have been the teachers of the ancient Druidic orders. She grinned at the older men, thrilled with their choice of languages.

"Come around to this side, Harry, I'll need you to translate these markings -- only when I point to them -- because I believe our dear Slytherins have thrown a kink in the manuscript." She mock-glared at the room in general, but the expression was ruined by a touch of pride in their subterfuge. "And just when have you had time to learn how to _write_ in Parseltongue?"

Harry had the good grace to blush, but didn't deny the accusation.

Together, the Gryffindors read aloud the contents of the doctored manuscript:

"Remember the many fine people of the Tribe who have given their very souls to learn the Truth. **_Eternal youth_** can be found, dearest Brothers and Sisters! The blush of innocence reborn through **_many trials of_** science and magic..."

The reading continued, interrupted by the occasional snicker. As the last words ended with a warning of 'enter not into this ritual lightly', Hermione broke down with hilarity. 

"Oh, it's just too much! He'll eat it up, I swear. Gods! You boys have played it perfectly, petting his ego and luring with such pretty promises."

Taking a deep breath, she forced a more solemn manner and began the dissection. Layer upon layer of curse-breaking charms and revelatory spells did not alter the state of the parchment, or its tantalizing contents. Finally, the witch sat back and smiled in exhaustion at her audience.

"Unless there are dark spells that I haven't heard about to break through these charms, I would have to say... Gentlemen, we have a winner!"

Hermione's delighted squeal doubled in intensity as she was swung into a fierce hug by her best friend. The duo danced in a tight circle, then she was passed to an equally enthusiastic Draco. Harry dived into his lovers' waiting arms, practically sobbing his relief, and so missed the hard kiss his witchy friend planted on their classmate's gobsmacked face.

In celebration, an early break was called. Dobby popped in with mounds of treats, gleefully hugging the three students before popping back to Hogwarts.

"I believe it best to cease any further plans until after this meeting," Severus began, muttering behind his mug of mulled cider. "We have no knowledge as yet on how the Dark Lord will react to our misguiding information."

"Agreed. Only after Severus returns -- safely! -- to us, can we proceed with our plans." Lucius squeezed his friend's shoulder in a gesture of support, worry writ all over his face. "This manufactured artifact may well purchase us much-needed time... but it might also cause several untimely complications. Let us not overindulge in patting our own backs before we have Severus returned from his meeting, unharmed."

Reluctantly, the teens acknowledged the veracity of such caution. Mood more sedate, the group drifted back into researching Harry's voduin project.

~ * ~

Late the same afternoon brought another letter. Once again, the Potions Master read aloud, smirking as he heard the underlying frustration in his coworker's tone. There followed a brief debate on how much of their plans should be revealed to the acting Headmistress, and how they were to convince the all-too-canny McGonagall to hire Lucius as the replacement Potions instructor. 

Hermione offered a fair compromise: "With different hair and eye color, and less fancy clothes, few people would recognize you. And surely you can fake a French accent. We can explain that you're on loan from Beauxbatons, and have the two of you switch off on classes. I don't see Severus relinquishing his OWL or NEWT preparatory classes to anyone, so let him take the upper years of both Potions and DADA. That leaves you with two more classes than him, but with much less stress overall."

Her proposal was met with silence for all of one minute. Harry's audible exhalation signaled the rest to begin speaking at once, but the general consensus was approval. Of course, being who they were, numerous nit-picking discussions would follow. On the whole, however, they had a working plan that would keep the group together after term began, and that would provide more free time than the Head of Slytherin had previously 'enjoyed'. That Lucius would be forced to actually _work_... was met with less enthusiasm from the Malfoy patriarch (and not-so-subtle snickers from the rest).

~ * ~

**Chapter Twenty-Seven : Lie to me, please, I beg you. Uh huh.**

"Severus, you may enter."

Head bowed, the Potions Master's eyes flickered across the darkened room from beneath his eyelashes. As expected, there were only two others in the Dark Lord's audience chamber -- Pettigrew and Bellatrix. Severus allowed himself to relax just the tiniest bit. He approached the serpentine figure slowly, dropping down to one knee as he reached the pretentious 'throne' of his unwanted master. A skeletal hand appeared in front of his face and he immediately placed a kiss to the offered knuckles, inwardly shuddering at his actions.

"You may rise," the order came out sounding bland and bored, but a slight tremble from the clawed hand showed Riddle's suppressed excitement. "Do sit down, Severus." A flick of his wand summoned a comfortable sofa and low table, already laden with tea and refreshments. "When our dear Bella brought word of your current project, I found myself most interested. As you know, I have always fancied myself a... historian of some accomplishment -- ancient rites, long-forgotten potions, and such. Of course there have always been rumors of various methods to bring about eternal youth, a child's curiosity, an old man's fantasy. But you, Severus, are far from those gullible masses. Do tell us what evidence you have gleaned that your new hobby is founded in hard facts."

Wasting no time, Severus did as he was instructed, sinking gracefully onto the sofa and fixing his teacup to taste (not that he had any intention of ingesting anything in the Dark Lord's camp). Eyes set submissively at his 'master's' knees, he drew out the carefully prepared scroll and laid it on the table within easy reach. 

"Thank you for sparing time for this interview, my lord," he began, voice pitched low and even. "While assisting the new Headmistress in clearing out Dumbledore's office, I ran across this weathered parchment. Naturally, there was no opportunity to determine what I had discovered at the time, and with the end of term upon us I was forced to wait until after the imbeciles had left. I confess that, even with the unimpeded use of Hogwarts' entire resources at my disposal, I am still uncertain on several of the markings; however, I have managed to translate the bulk of the text." Here Severus cleared his throat and allowed a measure of excitement to cloud his tone, "My lord, I have no reason to believe that this is less than authentic. The procedure is very thorough, from a series of simple charms to three intricate potions and a combination of ritualistic incantations, even going so far as to detail the ... side effects, if you will, to be expected."

Slitted red eyes broke out of their glassy, dreamlike trance to focus fully on the Potions Master once more. "And what would be the 'catch', Snape?"

Drawing on reserves of strength and courage that could (if he had not argued with the Sorting Hat) have placed him in Godric's House, Severus slid his eyes up to briefly meet the Dark Lord's. "I cannot perform a trial run without possibly giving eternity to someone less worthy than yourself. Also, from what I understand, there is still a slight chance that you could be banished, my lord. Not killed outright, as any injury would regenerate in time, but exorcised from this plane of existence. It is but a remote possibility, Master! Our enemies would have no idea of the combination of spells necessary to effect your expulsion, nor is there anyone within their precious Order who would know where to begin such a search. It is my belief that there is little risk involved in attempting the procedure. I humbly await your instructions, my lord." And from his seat, Severus bowed low to the psychopath who held his life and health in his scab-covered hands.

For several tense minutes, the occupants of the room sat in silence waiting to hear from their obviously inhuman master. Covertly, Severus watched the rat fiddle with his silver hand -- he could practically hear the turncoat's thoughts race in his desire to be the 'test subject', not that it was likely to happen. Similarly, Bellatrix bounced lightly on her toes with the manic energy she was now known for. It hardly took a genius to see into her mind, to interpret the surge of lust that ran across her face at the idea that she could have her first love's body back. He suppressed a grimace of revulsion at the memory of walking in on the pair not too long ago.

"You have ever had my best interests at heart, dear Severus," Riddle's words brought his followers from their own thoughts. Only Pettigrew showed any outward surprise, and would be punished for it soon enough. "Very well, I shall trust you to begin preparations at once. With the bumbling old fool out of our way, we have ample time to undertake such a... momentous endeavor." His eyes slitted to crimson slashes, issuing their own warning. "But Severus, my little snake, it would be most beneficial to your health not to dally about. Three days should provide you with enough time for the first stage, yes?"

All he could do was nod quickly in agreement, breathing a mental sigh of relief that (so far) their plans were proceeding nicely. "Of course, my lord. You are most generous to your humble servant."

~ * ~

While the Head of Slytherin had his meeting, Hermione and Draco helped Harry smuggle into Hogwarts. As there was only fireplace at the safehouse, and Lucius was planted in front of it attempting to read until his lover returned, the trio of conspirators combined efforts to create a timed portkey -- he would have only ninety minutes to complete his task before it activated to bring him home. Silent hugs were passed around, barely managing to release before all three students were dropped into the Headmistress' office.

"Well hello, Mr. Potter. I did not expect company this evening," McGonagall said in her driest voice. "Please find a comfortable seat and I shall call for tea."

Harry flopped into the hideous floral chair once favored by his old mentor, forcing himself not to dwell on the loss that still made his heart ache for the old man.

"Sorry for just dropping in, Professor. It's just... That is..." He coughed and shifted nervously in his seat. "How much did Headmaster Dumbledore tell you about his plans, ma'am? I need to know how much information we share."

Minerva nodded her tartan-clad head slowly. "I had anticipated this conversation, Harry, and hope to relieve your concerns at least somewhat." A random house elf popped in with tea and sliced sandwiches, granting them both a moment to collect their thoughts. "During last year's winter holiday, Albus made full disclosure to me -- his own words, which I have long since learned are questionable at best -- about the situation with You-Know-Who's horcruxes. And what you are destined to accomplish. He also made it quite clear that I must trust Professor Snape regardless of his actions or words to indicate any darker alliance. Surely this meeting is not about-"

"No ma'am! Pardon my interruption, but that's not it at all." Drinking a too-large gulp of tea, Harry spluttered for a moment before gasping, "Maybe I should be more specific... Headmistress, are you now the officially unofficial leader of the Order of the Phoenix?"

The piercing gaze that once came from twinkling blue eyes now pinned Harry into place in a hazel stare. He felt his mental shields tested, and relaxed them a tiny bit out of courtesy for his former Head of House. Apparently satisfied, the witch straightened in her chair.

"Harry Potter, as a member of the aforementioned group I advise you to secure your thoughts."

"Headmistress McGonagall, I have worked long and hard to be capable of such methods. Rest assured that this is an important matter, or else I would never-"

"Oh do settle down, Potter. And yes, I suppose I am the new leader. Blast Albus for leaving it all to me," she grumbled, grinning ruefully behind her cup. "Whatever it is you need to discuss, perhaps we can do so soon?"

Holding up both hands in supplication, Harry snickered at the older woman's antics. "Alright then, here's the thing... Dumbledore made plans for me for this summer, tutors if you will, and I wanted to know if you were aware of... the details."

"I did know something about it, yes Potter. And do please tell me that Severus has not turned you into a newt yet. Merlin's sake, term only ended five days ago! Surely you haven't driven each other 'round the bend so soon."

Eyes twinkling bright enough to rival the recently dead wizard, Harry laughed aloud at her accusations. "No ma'am! We're actually... getting along quite well. I, um, was wondering though, if you knew _all_ of Dumbledore's instructions."

A mighty eyeroll met his ambiguous request for information. "Potter. Harry... unlike Albus, I am not a fan of riddles and un-statements. We must learn to speak more plainly with each other than either of us is accustomed, thanks to a certain meddlesome old *cough* coot."

Choking on a sip of tea, Harry's laughter joined the Headmistress' deep chuckle in the circular room. Only after the witch's clock chimed the hour did they break apart, as the young wizard remembered his time limit. 

"True enough. Alright, how about I ask a few questions first... unless you want to begin?" A wrinkled hand waved him on. "Right then. According to Professor Snape, this summer I am to have two tutors. Were you aware of this?"

"Albus did mention something like that, yes. He refrained from divulging the name of of your second instructor, however."

"Ah... I'm not sure it's my place to say, ma'am. I can tell you that I've reason to trust them both, and that the second might make a fair replacement for Slughorn for the new term. We've talked about the possibility, both to keep training beyond summer and to insure his safety when Snape and I come back here in the fall. Uh... if you need another opinion about the situation, you can always ask 'Mione. She's visiting for a few days, and has had more fun than I can handle ganging up on me with my instructors." Harry added an eyeroll to the last, just for good measure.

Were twinkling eyes and penetrating stares a requirement for the job, or a benefit after taking control of Hogwarts Head position? McGonagall's gaze seemed to burn into his skin, making Harry's conscience twinge for the obvious omissions.

"Potter, I have yet to speak with Professor Snape about recent events, and have only begun my search for the various teaching positions that need to be filled. I do appreciate your input, but kindly recall who is responsible for the students' welfare, hmm?"

"Oh, of course! I'm sorry, Headmistress, really! I wasn't trying to usurp your prerogative, honestly... It was just a thought we had, since Sev-Snape has already worked with him and they'd do such a good job of splitting classwork and all. Which he'll need, cus he's got all that Head of House stuff as well, and he'll be twice as busy with his *other* job if things go to plan and-"

"If you would cease and desist, Mr. Potter, we might move on to the next item on your agenda."

Blushing brightly, Harry felt he would always be eleven in this daunting woman's eyes. "Of course, sorry ma'am. Anyways," he breathed deeply, "we've got a few good ideas about the remaining horcruxes, and will probably need to spend a couple of afternoons here for researching them. And, well, there's another matter that I haven't mentioned to anyone else, but you're the one person I'd like to be there when I have to talk with them..." Restless and nerve-wrought, the Gryffindor stood to pace the room. "Mrs. Weasley asked me to break up with Ginny, publicly and with everyone smiling to show no hard feelings. It's the public part that gets me -- doesn't she remember how dangerous it is for me to just buy school supplies? I was hoping, maybe, if you have time... would you go with me to meet them sometime in the next week or two?"

"Potter, it's not really my place-"

"Please ma'am, you're the closest thing I've got to a female relative anymore. I can't count on Mrs. Weasley that way now, and Merlin knows my aunt is... inappropriate for the job."

Bending her head down, Minerva rubbed aching eyes as she thought over the request. In truth, she had suspected something like this to happen. The magical world was every bit as gossip-ridden as the Muggle world could be, and worse when their target was the Boy-Who-Lived. She silently cursed Molly Weasley for putting her in this position. "Alright Harry, I shall owl you when it is time. Will you permit me to make the appropriate arrangements?"

"Yes, thank you ma'am." Harry sheepishly stared at his shoes, aware of the spectacle he had made of himself over such a trivial matter. A thought occurred to him, breaking through the more depressing subject of his former surrogate family. "Have I time to check out a book from the library, do you think?"

"I believe that can be arranged." The Headmistress stood from behind her desk, proceeding her favored student out of the office. "Surely you remember where the library is, Potter. Although, you seldom spend much time there without Ms. Granger's nattering invitation."

A sly grin. "Well, yeah, but I've carried her 'light reading material' often enough to find my way, even blindfolded!"

~ * ~

As luck would have it, Harry arrived back at the safehouse only minutes before Severus. Tantalizing aromas lured them toward the kitchen, where both brunets stopped dead in their tracks in stunned disbelief.

"That's good, Dray, keep stirring. See? It's just like brewing potions, really simple if you think about it. You should be quite good at cooking, if you've truly earned your marks."

"Why has no one ever told me how much fun this could be? And soothing too! You're right, Mia, it's so much like potions, even many of the same ingredients."

Before the returning duo could interrupt the younger blond's voyage of culinary discovery, Lucius slinked out of his chair at the table to urge them back into the hallway. A quick silencing charm later, he waited for shock to evolve into...

Snort. Snicker-snort. Chuckle. Harry doubled over, gasping for breath between full belly laughs. Severus wiped at his eyes to clear the tears of mirth away.

"Yes, yes, all terribly amusing. My son, whom everyone knows to be thoroughly incompetent and uninterested in menial labor, is having a grand time learning to cook from the Muggle-born know-it-all that has been his only academic rival for the past six years." Lucius allowed his own chuckle to break his train of thought. "If I were the suspicious sort, I might conclude that there is a rapidly developing undercurrent of attraction between them."

Another snort, more pronounced. "Luc, please, as if any of us who know you well would believe that you are _not_ the 'suspicious' sort."

Followed closely by Harry's observation: "And even those of us who don't know you that well, but are learning quickly."

"Fine, gang up on me." The blond's lips formed into an attractive pout, ruined when he smirked at his companions. "Actually, please do. I've seen neither of you for more than an hour, yet here I stand, without having received a proper greeting. Oh woe is me!"

His dramatic monologue was interrupted by an enthusiastic hug and fast kiss from the younger brunet, with Severus joining the group to wrap his arms around both men. Satisfied with his mechanisms (however obvious), Lucius demanded kisses from both of his lovers in turn.

~ * ~

Dinner was... interesting. All five participants would later agree on only that one description to cover the informative gathering, or the meal provided by their dubious duo of dueling chefs. 

As his first foray into cooking had given Draco a great deal of amusement -- pitting his skills at potion making against the enthusiastic, if somewhat bossy, teaching methods of the walking encyclopedia -- a wealth of different dishes was prepared. And so what, most of them would never be served together, but he had fun! It was up to each person to not pile their plates with conflicting foods, wasn't it? Chinese pork with plum sauce doesn't settle well with sage cornbread dressing. Everyone knew that.

Of course, there were two other reasons for the underlying tension at the table. Severus' interview with the Dark Lord, and Harry's impromptu meeting with Headmistress McGonagall. 

"Before you ask, no, I was not cursed or otherwise abused while in the Dark Lord's presence. Although there was a point of contention that almost incurred his ire. Apparently, our 'master' has never felt the need to learn how to utilize his parseltongue ability with written words. Thus my delay in leaving his current stronghold, as I had to have him interpret the snake markings to complete my translation." Smirking wickedly at the memory of Riddle's embarrassment, Severus spooned a second helping of moo shu pork onto his plate. "It should be known that Pettigrew showed more than a passing interest in the text as well. Perhaps we can use his interest to our advantage?"

Hermione bounced in her seat, her hand sneaking up as if to answer the Professor's question before she recalled herself. "Wouldn't Voldie be angry if his full-time servant was caught, or just suspected, of 'stealing' such an important ritual? Let's sow dissension in the ranks!"

"Just so, Ms. Granger. I would be forced to offer twenty points to Gryffindor, if school was currently in session." A rolled rice pancake filled with shredded pork and tart plum sauce made its way to the Potions Master's mouth, where he hummed in pleasure. "Delightful, a job well done, both of you." He quickly finished the serving before continuing, "I've three days to collect the necessary items for step one. It must also be mentioned, something that relieves me quite a lot, that the Dark Lord appears to have more trust in me than ever before. We must proceed carefully if I am to maintain that opinion, however it surely can be used to our advantage."

~ * ~


	10. Chapters Twenty-eight through Thirty-one

  
Author's notes: *When Draco met Hermione. *Harry and Lucius and Severus, oh my! (I'm picturing those cheesy action flic ads while I type this)  


* * *

All disclaimers, notes and random information can still be found on the first page of this story.

And with this entry, all currently posted chapters are available on HPFandom. 

Woo me. I think I might have busted a server :P

~ * ~

**Chapter Twenty-Eight : We who are about to salute, dye you.**

With a carefully worded comment in his companion's ear, Draco led an unprotesting Hermione back to the mall. He wanted to give his father, mentor and... whatever Harry was becoming to him... a bit of time without an audience. That it would also give him some quality bonding moments with a certain angel of his own? Well, that was just icing on the cake.

~ * ~

"I'm going to take the longest, hottest bubble bath in the history of this house," Harry announced to the two older wizards as the door closed behind his classmates. He didn't miss the shared _look_ , but refused to let it bother him -- such a charged exchange meant that his prospective lovers were going to take the opportunity to indulge in a bit of... oh to hell with being prim about it, they were gonna shag like kneazles.

Collecting fresh clothes and his toiletries, he started filling the tub with steamy hot water. Only after stripping down to his shorts did he think to wonder where he'd left his comb. In the study. Well, since Luc and Sev were probably locked away in their room doing gods knew what, it was safe for him to hop in and grab it without getting dressed, right?

Wrong.

The study's partially opened door let Harry know exactly how wrong he was. No sounds of activity alerted him -- convenient silencing spells -- but apparently they'd been too hasty in their ardor to shut and lock the door. Dreams aside, he'd never witnessed any form of sex (other than moving pictures in the "forbidden" magazines that every male student at Hogwarts seemed to own), and he found himself wanting to... 

A quick sprint down the hall to shut off the water, Harry refused to allow any inkling of guilt to mar this opportunity. Someday in the near future, he would most probably be joining these two handsome men. Why shouldn't he have some sort of knowledge on how Tab A fit with Slot B prior to his first encounter?

And there they were, beautiful for their contrasting coloration. Severus knelt on his hands and knees, angled just right to permit round green eyes to see Lucius' fingers pushing through the guardian ring of muscle into his body. A long moan of approval brought a fourth finger into play, and the darker Slytherin shoved back against his lover's preparatory invasion. 

"Lucius, if you don't put your prick up my arse in the next five seconds, I'm going to take you raw."

Harry shuddered at both the threat (not idle, coming from his passionate professor) and the tone of voice. 

The blond chuckled shakily, even as he slicked himself and got into position. "Really Sev, one might think you were _craving_ a nice, thick cock right about now, hmm?" A single, slow motion had him fully seated inside his lover. "Gods, you feel just as tight now as when I first broke you in. Remember that, love?"

"How could I forget? We were-" pant "-off for summer holiday, and you'd invited-" gasp "-me to join your family in France. All the adults took off somewhere, leaving us to finally-" moan "-consummate the months of teasing."

"Teasing? Hardly. It was... extended foreplay, Severus." Keeping his strokes firm and even, Lucius caressed his lover's back. "I remember how wonderful you tasted, my mouth around your sweet young cock, my fingers slowly opening your virgin hole. All the delightful sounds you made as you tried not to come before I took you, then drinking you down as you sputtered apologies."

Engrossed in both dialogue and exhibition, Harry's hand ghosted down his torso without conscious effort. His own prick made a sizable bulge in his shorts. With little thought on the prudence of his actions, he shucked them off and leaned against the door frame. Fingers toying with his inner thigh, his other hand idly brushing against his nipples, eyes half-closed as lust overrode his better judgement.

"I've never told you this before, but I was quite grateful that you came so quickly. The forced relaxation made it so much easier to prepare you, and gave me time to cool off." Lucius' strokes picked up speed just a bit, as their mutual desire heightened. "It felt like hours, and no time at all, just kissing and petting, learning every inch of your body. Gods, Sev!" Hard thrusts took over, gasps turning into moans. "That first inch inside your sweet arse was hell, the next inch heaven. Never felt anything better."

Leaning on his shoulders, Severus stroked himself in time with the blond's movements. The muscles along his back trembled in preparation for a massive orgasm, but he needed to respond, had to... "I've never let any other man take me, Luc."

The whispered confession sent Lucius over the edge into bliss, his hips losing tempo as each jet of semen coated his beloved's inner walls. "Love, my love!" 

Combined with the exquisite sensation of his lover's climax, Severus' eyes opened at the endearments. And focused on their enraptured guest.

With each description, Harry had tried to mimic the instructions. He wet his fingers with saliva, and was able to force two past that tight barrier. All subtlety lost, he pushed back hard against his hand, catching and stroking his prick in time with the two gorgeous wizards. When Lucius exploded, Harry almost joined him out of sympathy. Then his eyes met Severus, and it was all over. He cried out their names as his thick cream shot out of his cock, his knees buckling with the intensity of one of the most tremendous orgasms of his young life.

Hearing his name shouted in passion, watching the tender _virgin_ body lost in pleasure so great it bordered on painful, Severus let himself be caught in the expected tidal wave. He was filled, so thoroughly fucked, and witness to Harry Bloody Potter's unabashed wanking. That he no longer thought of the young man in such terms was beside the point. He had an erotic buffet to feast upon, and gorge he did.

Betraying none of the surprise he inwardly felt at being caught unawares, Lucius held out his hand for Harry to join them. He refused to change positions any time soon, reveling in the rhythmic squeeze around his semi-hard cock. On trembling legs, Harry staggered away from the door and joined the fracas, sharing passionate kisses with each man, more energetic than their prior attempts. 

"Harry," the blond began, breaking away from the enthusiastic teen's lips, "if you still aren't ready, you should probably move back a few... dozen... feet. Now."

Completely bemused, Harry glanced at Severus to see his reaction. Almost black eyes, nearly shut, told him nothing. Then he spied the slight rocking motions back against Lucius' hips, the renewed erection stroked by potion-stained fingers, and he blushed Weasley red. 

A warm hand gently cupped his face, bringing him back to look at Lucius. "You are safe, Harry. We will never push you beyond what you wish to happen. However, right now..."

"Right now, Mr. Potter, I am a hair's breath away from swallowing your delicious-looking prick while Lucius buggers me senseless, again," Severus' normal voice broke around gasps and moans. "If you wish to merely be a spectator once more, you should step out of our reach. But don't leave the room. Stay, watch."

Lucius Malfoy, head of the most elite pureblood dynasties in Britian's magical world, growled. "Yes, by all means, continue to watch. Oh fuck! So sexy, don't even realize it, neither of you, more for me," his words tapered off into primal grunts of subconscious ramblings, so thoroughly turned on by the idea of being the center of this particular young man's masturbation fantasies.

With a shaky breath, Harry flopped down on his back beside Severus and squirmed until his chin brushed the wet head of his professor's erection. "I can watch just as well from here." He licked his lips, accidentally (on purpose) tasting the older man's fluids. "Show me how it's done."

Dual erotic groans met his instructions. 

Prepared to play his part, Severus spread the young man's legs and ghosted a breath across the sensitive flesh. Just as his mouth opened to begin its tutorial, he chuckled and said, "Mr. Potter, please do pay attention. There will be a test in the near future."

~ * ~

"Uh... How about that movie? The night's still young, and you were telling me such nice things about the plot and costuming-"

"Draco, stop babbling. Why shouldn't we go inside and ask if they'd like to join us?"

" _ **NO!**_ "

"Dear gods, what's gotten into you?! It's not as if we're interrupting... Oh my."

"Uh huh."

"Oh. My."

"Yeah."

"Is it...?"

"Yeah."

"And they're...?"

"Oh yeah."

"Hot?"

"Definitely."

"We should..."

"... go watch that movie."

"Right."

"Right."

A long look passed between former enemies, followed by nervous laughter. Draco's arm wound around Hermione's waist as he led her back toward the theatre. Neither spoke again until they reached their seats, popcorn and soft drinks in hand.

"Does it make you feel... I dunno... dirty, to have seen them like that?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, not at all. Not really. I-"

"You what?"

"Maybe I envy them a bit."

"Hmm, yes."

"You too?"

"Only a bit."

"But not as much as a week ago."

"Right."

"Right."

~ * ~

**Chapter Twenty-Nine : Fluff, just fluff.**

"So, that was pretty-"

"-intense-"

"-uncomfortable-"

"-hot-"

"-that too." With a sigh, Hermione blew a random curl out of her eyes. She wasn't sure what to make of the evening's 'free' entertainment... Harry had told her he was going to take thing slow, but this? was not slow. Still, if her friend felt comfortable with that level of intimacy, then she should be supportive. Except that he wouldn't know that she knew what he'd done, so how could she be supportive without telling him she'd seen... _that_?

Draco nudged her back to the present, grinning impishly. "Hey, what say we go over to that club on Marson Street? Dance a bit, maybe get one of their fancy mixed drinks... just talk for awhile."

"Draco Malfoy, are you asking me out?" Her tone was accusatory, but her eyes twinkled with pleasure.

"Hmm, maybe. Are you going to say yes?" 

The normally confident, arrogant Slytherin looked almost shy. She didn't have the heart to toy with him, not this new version she was quickly learning to appreciate. "Sounds like a fine idea." Tucking her hand in the crook of his arm, Hermione beamed a smile up at the blond aristocrat. "What sort of music should I expect?"

"Oh! You might not like- If not, we can go somewhere else-"

"Dray, please! What music do they play? I'm fairly flexible." With a wink, she left the possible flirting comment hanging, just to see if he'd take the bait.

"I'm sure you could be," his voice turned husky, Draco bumped his hip against hers. "They tend to play mostly older rock. You know, from the 70s and 80s."

"Ah, ancient history then." It wasn't much of a retort, but if it earned her this musical laugh, she'd try for more lame comments.

They walked the next few blocks in easy silence, only broken when one of them spotted something interesting in the shops along the way. Not too far from their destination, Draco's brain caught up with a tasty little tidbit of teasing that he knew he could milk for quite awhile.

"So, will I ever get to see how flexible you are?"

Instead of the blush he'd expected, Hermione laughed aloud and smacked him lightly on the chest. She straightened back up and primly said, "We're just now getting to know one another. I think you're a tad premature in asking such questions." Then threw down her own gauntlet with, "Are you often... premature?"

He coughed. Twice. That turned into a small fit. Which turned into the laughter she could happily become addicted to. "I've never had that problem in the past, but perhaps my choice in partners never inspired such... ardor."

"Oh, you silver-tongued devil you." Dramatic sigh and more dramatic eyeroll. "I've read that the condition has less to do with subject matter, and more to do with a physical or psychological deficiency."

"Why you little-!" Twirling the witch so her back rested against his chest, Draco's fingers attacked her ribs in malicious glee. Pedestrians up and down the block paused to watch as he tickled Hermione into a fit of hiccups. "Let that be a lesson to you, my dear Gryffindor. Doubt not a Malfoy's virility."

Hermione, ever one to taunt the foe, simply scoffed. "It's not the caliber of ammunition that's in question. It's whether or not you can hit the mark."

"Should I take this as a challenge, lovely?"

"Hmm, out here, amongst all these strangers?"

"Oh yes. Perhaps we might sell tickets, make a few pounds spare change."

"Exhibitionism is supposedly related to self-esteem issues. Specifically, in men who feel that their equipment is somehow... lacking." She smiled sweetly up at her escort, but dodged the expected tickle-attack.

"I've yet to hear a single complaint. From either gender."

"Oh really! So you're jealousy at... what we witnessed... would you rather have had first taste of Harry's-"

"You really don't want to go there, Granger. Really." Practically sulking now, or at least pretending most believably, Draco released Hermione's arm and stomped off toward the final corner before their turnoff.

_Hit a sore spot, did I? Most interesting..._ Hermione jogged to catch up with the blond, grabbing his arm to return to their previous position. "Honestly, if you can't take a joke..." She added a good jab to his ribs to amplify the teasing tone of her words.

"Fine, joke taken." Once again he stopped them, dragging her over toward a closed shop. "Hermione, you don't truly believe that I'm even remotely interested in Harry Potter, do you? True, beneath those hideous clothes and tortured hair, he isn't all that bad looking. But he's not my type -- not enough curves by far -- and he's already spoken for by two of the only people whose opinions actually matter to me." Grey eyes beseeched her to hear the truth. 

"What they have I envy. Not who, but _what_. I want a passion so great that it sends my senses reeling, turns off my higher brain functions, changes me into a sappy sod that spouts bad poetry and love sonnets. I want to watch my lover enter the room and immediately lose myself in them. In her eyes, her arms. I want to be her world, as she would be my entire existence. Someone with whom I can talk for hours about the weather, or the state of economics, or antimatter modulation spells. Someone that won't be embarassed by my family's fallen reputation, but might actually be proud of the man I am, my name and title out of the equation. A woman with spirit and taste, who can find pleasure in classical literature or dancing at a common club, who isn't afraid of getting her hands dirty -- metaphorically -- but is smart enough to know which spells would do the work for her. I..."

Hermione's hand came up, fingers ghosting over his lips to silence him. Draco was having none of that, however, and gently grasped her hand, pulling it away after placing a small kiss against the back of it.

"I've had this mental picture of my ideal partner for years, ever since my father gave me that embarassing kestrels and humbumbles talk. And up until last week, I felt her absence like a constant ache. Hermione," his serious tone grew deeper as he placed either hand on her cheeks and dipped his face close to hers. "I don't know if you're the woman I'm met to love forever. But there's something here, now, between us. I'm not imagining it, am I?" She quickly shook her head, acknowledging his question. "And I'd really like to find out where this is going. If you're up for it?"

In lieu of an answer, Hermione raised up on tiptoe and slid her lips across his. It was hardly the steamiest kiss either had experienced, but she felt sparkling crackers down to her feet. Eyes half-closed, she watched his face carefully as her tongue slipped out to taste the seam of his mouth. When he immediately granted her entry, Hermione sighed in a breath of relief and began stroking his tongue with her own. That he let her guide their first kiss was... gratifying -- she had half expected him to be quite dominant. This tender side of Draco "just call me ferret" Malfoy was oddly endearing, and she felt a thrill of possessiveness run through her soul. 

Not all of his visions involved 'blacking out' the rest of the world. In some, he would receive a brief message or picture of events, and be left to deal with the fallout. Such was the case as he stood on a crowded Muggle street with the Gryffindor witch whose life he had happily made into a living hell for so many years. The special someone promised to him by the gods was finally ready to be delivered. He couldn't expect a smooth ride just yet, but they had at least a decent start.

Draco sent a silent word of thanks for the message, then impertanently told them to bugger off so he could kiss his witch in peace.

And somewhere far above, the heavens rumbled with laughter.

~ * ~

**Chapter Thirty : A Little Dab'll Do Ya**

It could be said that, so long as the subject matter interested him, Harry Potter was a quick learner. A fact that Severus would swear by (loudly) to whomever or whatever was in the general vicinity when those luscious pink lips wrapped around his prick for the first time.

_When I warned him of being quizzed, I hadn't expected him to apply himself so thoroughly. Not that you'll hear me complaining!_

Unlike his classroom methods, Severus favored a more... hands on approach to the sensual arts. He taught by example, and Harry quickly learned how to lick, nibble, and suck like a dockside whore. That he had an excellent view of his instructor being joyfully buggered only made it better. He wasn't quite ready to be taken, no matter how he felt about these two tantalizing wizards, but having a front row seat and interactive audience participation? Suited him a treat! 

Lucius' lightly furred bollocks swung and slapped against Severus' thighs, sweeping across the darker man's tight sac on every other stroke. Harry watched, completely enraptured, as that thick column rammed deep inside Severus' arse. The tiny ring of muscle was stretched to its limit, but with an ease that spoke of years of practice. And every time the blond angled down in just the right way, Severus groaned around Harry's cock. _Must be the prostate. Gods, wonder how that feels..._ He didn't have to wonder for long, however. 

A master of multi-tasking, Severus kept at least half his attention on their young lover. He carefully moved his arms under Harry's legs, pulling them up and apart to better direct his ministrations. When he was confident of not falling on top of the trembling teen, he cast the trio of spells on Harry's virgin hole. A soft moan of surprised pleasure encouraged his exploration, and he tentatively pressed inward. Hot, tight, but welcoming, Harry's body readily adapted to the intrusion. _Fuck! Want to be inside him, be the first to feel him clenching around me._ An image of just that flashed in his mind, forcing Severus to jump from 'feeling mighty fine' to 'counting down seconds til meltdown.'

Harry had a bit of experience with pleasuring himself, like any male his age. But the sensations brought on by watching and joining his lovers were so much more intense than he could ever have possibly imagined! He loved seeing Lucius thrust in and out of that tight haven, loved having Severus' delicious cock in his mouth, loved the normally cutting tongue doing devilishly wonderful things to his own prick. And then it got better -- one moment he was riding a wave of sensory delights, and the next he felt slicked and stretched, with a tapered finger pushing into him. He was only a mortal, and a teenager at that... he couldn't last much longer.

Severus' balls grew taut and high, his arsehole rhythmically clenching, and he barely had enough presence of mind to raise his mouth and give fair warning to his inexperienced lover. "Harry, so very good, going to come soon. Take your mouth away if you don't want-"

A deep, throaty growl of satisfaction interrupted the Potions Master, and pulled him over the edge, draining pulse after pulse of bittersweet semen out of his body and onto Harry's eager tongue. Green eyes crossed as the teen forced himself _not_ to gasp in surprise at the quantity of fluid bursting across his tastebuds, nearly making him miss the same phenomenon happening to their other lover. 

It wasn't often that Lucius was able to ignore the intoxicating spasms of Severus' body milking him; add to that a randy young man whose deft fingers left Severus' legs and spider crawled up to fondle his sac... and Luc was a goner. His cries of pleasure echoed off the study walls as he emptied himself, body and soul, into the willing body beneath him.

Harry had been so very close. Between the visual and physical stimulation from either end, only another few passes of that marvelous tongue would've brought him off to an earth-shattering climax. But then they stopped. He wanted to scream in protest, to sulk and stomp his feet. Or maybe just to cry in frustration. He wasn't given the chance to do any of the above.

As if they'd Apparated, Lucius and Severus changed positions before he could collect enough brain cells to complain. Blond hair flashed across his blurry vision and was gone again. That heavenly mouth _twisted_. Then the finger was removed, replaced by something hot and wet and so dexterous that it felt like something with a mind of its own, creeping up inside him until he wanted to beg for it to stop, to let him breathe, to never _ever_ stop! Cool fingers wound their way up his chest to twist and pull a puckered nipple, its mate bereft only until a much warmer set joined the fun. 

Both mouths moved long enough to whisper, and Harry found his arse raised to a more accommodating position. Then his eyes fluttered open to help him beg for more, and he caught sight of... himself. Spread open, sweaty and flushed. With Lucius' hand on his right side, those perfect pale lips kissing the most private part of his body. With Severus lapping along the length of his aching erection, fingers playing havoc with his left nipple. _A mirror! Oh fuckin' buggerin' hell, they're going to kill me with pleasure. And I'll gladly beg for it._

Silver and black eyes met across the fresh expanse of their new lover's body. They knew quite well what was going through the other's mind -- marking their territory, scenting him, and making sure he would never be tempted to stray. Lucius slowly removed his tongue, replacing it with two slippery fingers, and lapped his way up to explore Harry's tightened bollocks. He waited for Severus to dive down, down til his nose landed in tight black curls, and swallowed around the tender morsel in his mouth, then gently sucked the tight skin of Harry's perineum, rubbing his fingers against the spongy mass of nerves until-

" ** _Aaaah Gods!_** Don't stop, never stop, love this, love it, love... love..." Through pants and the occasional whimper, Harry's body went limp. He felt his soul leaving through his prick and couldn't be bothered to stop it. Couldn't care enough to watch what he was saying either, and just before letting the tempting blackness take him, it slipped out. _"Love you both..._

~ * ~

As their young lover passed over into orgasm-induced oblivion, Lucius and Severus exchanged one of their looks. Neither man knew what to say, although both were thinking approximately the same thing: _He feels so strongly, accepts change without a multitude of questions._

"We should discuss this."

"Hmm, most assuredly."

"After he wakes up... there's no sense in disturbing his peaceful nap."

In total agreement, they arranged themselves along either side of Harry, and settled down for a short doze.

~ * ~

A pair of giggling teens burst through the door and staggered down the hall, not bothering to mask the noise they were making.

"- and then he got this cross-eyed look on his face, as if he'd just been stung on the nose by a glumbumble."

After their walk back from the dance club, Hermione headed straight for the loo to freshen up. Draco decided to check in with the trio while he waited for her to finish, but had enough presence of mind to knock on the study door and wait for an answer. Muffled words and a thud, followed by a short string of profanity, then the door opened to reveal Severus in a loosely-tied dressing gown. 

"How can I help you, Mr. Malfoy?" The ever-proper professor tone caused a set of pale eyebrows to raise, but failed to intimidate.

"Just wanted to let you know that Hermione and I are back." He snickered, then couldn't resist adding, "And unless you'd like to offer another free show, perhaps you'd like to collect the others and get dressed." Draco's smirk lifted another notch. "As we told Harry the other day, silencing and locking charms are quite beneficial."

He managed to dodge the wandless hex by the narrowest of margins.

~ * ~

Hearing Draco scamper off toward the kitchen, Severus sighed in resignation -- there was no way his lovers hadn't heard the brief conversation, and he was concerned over Harry's reaction. He turned back to face them, carefully taking in the expression of weary amusement on Lucius' face, and the thoroughly gobsmacked look on their younger partner.

"Well," he began, then cleared his throat to stall for time. "It would seem that our recent activities were not quite as private as might be expected."

Lucius snorted indelicately. "Always the master of understatement, Sev."

As if on auto-pilot, Harry stood and began separating their respective clothes into piles. "So... at least one of them heard and/or saw us?" Twin nods of affirmation brought a sigh of his own. "Alright then. It's not as if they both weren't aware of this _whatever-it-is_ building between us. Not that I would have invited them to _watch_ -" his assertion contradicted a twitch of interest from parts south "-but at least we won't have to deal with much more than a few days of teasing, right?"

A warm hand brought a halt to his nervous movements, then drew him into a firm embrace. "Relax luv, they won't be too hard on you."

"And if either dares to try, I will be more than happy to deliver my own brand of retaliation." Severus joined the hug, melting into their sides and offering both men a short but passionate kiss. "I believe that Ms. Granger is entirely too conscientious of your feelings to attempt much in the way of teasing, Harry. As for young Draco, well, he has his own little secrets to be shared."

Harry's head lifted from its comfortable position on Lucius' shoulder, allowing him room to search out the sincerity on Severus' face. What he saw reassured him more than a five-foot scroll of romantic declarations. "Thank you, Sev. I don't want to hide what's going on here between us, but maybe I'm not ready to share it with the rest of the world yet. And alright, so Hermione and Draco know already... just... maybe..."

"Shh, don't get worked up over it again, luv." Wisps of silver hair tickled his nose as Lucius nuzzled against his throat. "The worst they can do is make a few comments, which we will quickly divert. However, I believe that they have their own budding relationship with which to concern themselves."

Eyes wide in realization, Harry snorted. Then snickered. Then let loose a full belly laugh. When the worst of his merriment had passed, he took several deep breaths and shared his thoughts, "How's that for poetic justice? I swear, Hermione had more reason to hate Draco than I did, but she always held her own. Got in some great shots on him too. I never saw it before, but now it looks like a couple of little kids who pull hair or something childish like that, to get the other's attention. If they can manage to tame each other's temper and arrogance -- and yes, I can be honest about 'Mione's attitude of her own intelligence -- then they'll probably make a great couple." His eyes took on a familiar twinkle. "But getting there is likely to be explosive."

~ * ~

**Chapter Thirty-one : Kiss and Make Up**

A late, light meal was on the table by the time they joined Draco and Hermione in the kitchen. The younger Malfoy made a few muttered comments about silencing spells and therapy sessions, but his witch stopped those with just a look.

_My_ witch! The thought sent a very satisfying shiver across his ego.

It was only minorly disturbing to the teens to watch each other's small touches and soft glances at their respective partners. Draco managed not to cringe at his father's well-shagged expression only by not looking in his direction at all. Harry couldn't help but smile into his sandwich at the glassy eyes of his best friend; he only hoped that she didn't get too much hassle from the upcoming storm. Pissed off Weasleys, as a rule, were notoriously loud, mouthy, and incapable of being subtle.

"Well, now that we're all settled a bit more," Hermione began, not even looking up from her glass of juice, "I think it's time to work on our plans." She was quite used to ignoring the grumbles and groans of procrastinators, and simply sent them all a glare. "Summer holiday or not, there is much to do before term begins. We need to discuss Harry's confrontation with the Weasleys, Severus' next meeting with Voldemort, and Lucius' teaching schedule. Which reminds me, has the Headmistress sent word about that yet? It would be most convenient for everyone involved, but without being able to speak freely with Professor McGonagall, we might have a few problems."

While she paused for breath, Draco slipped away from the table to send their dirty dishes on to soak. The trio addressed with questions glanced at each other with raised brows, finally voting Severus as spokesperson.

"Hermione, your enthusiasm does you credit, however," he raised a hand to halt her automatic interruption, "we have ample time to prepare for each of those events. With your greater knowledge of the Weasley clan, perhaps you might work with Harry to prepare a small declaration that would penetrate the thick skulls of Molly and her youngest two? Lucius and I will work together on the rest."

The aforementioned blond sat beside their younger lover, idly stroking a finger along the back of Harry's hand. Only after hearing his name did Lucius look up, a brief expression of confusion on his face before it was drawn back behind the Malfoy Mask of Indifference. "And just what evil scheme are you needing my assistance with this time, Severus?"

Hermione and Severus exchanged a smirk. Sometimes it were just too easy. "We are plotting world domination through the corruption of school aged children. Your presence is mandatory, so please keep up." He sniffed in disdain. "Although Minerva has yet to formally accept your application for teaching at Hogwarts, it would be wise to begin a series of lesson plans for the upcoming year."

Lucius groaned, then turned toward Harry for sympathy. "Do you see what they're doing here? Trying to keep us too busy for any private encounters." He leaned in to whisper, "We shall have to make time, yes? Explore a few of the more interesting possibilities..." Nibbles placed along the column of Harry's neck had them both moaning loud enough to draw everyone's attention.

Rejoining the group, Draco flounced into his seat and stated, "Well now you've done it. We've lost them for the rest of the evening." His fingers threaded through Hermione's hair, giving it a sharp tug to make her stop staring at his father and Harry's snogfest. "And since it looks like the second bed in my room is about to be abandoned, you are welcome to join me."

"Draco Malfoy! How dare you?" She didn't slap him. She wanted to, badly, but she did _not_ slap him. "What sort of girl do you think I am, inviting me to share your room after one date?" And with that, she stormed out of the room.

Harry wasn't as far gone as his blissful expression indicated. He chuckled at his roommate, offering no pity for the serious infraction of etiquette. "Looks like you really screwed up, Draco. Better go after her before she gets started breaking things."

A blond streak out the door, followed by "That's not what I meant! 'Mione, wait!", brought laughter from the three who remained seated.

Lucius pulled away from his target, sighing heavily. "Unfortunately, I suspect she is correct. We should spend the remainder of the evening working through a possible syllabus, course scheduling, and preliminary contract." He ruffled Harry's hair when the teen grumbled. "That does not mean that we cannot enjoy frequent breaks for more amusing endeavors."

Watching his lovers exchange a tender kiss, Severus marvelled at the lack of jealousy he felt at not being included. He was not accustomed to sharing his affections, and had always resented anything that interfered with his time with Lucius. But that was before Harry Potter. 

He moved the few short steps between his chair and the other two, kneeling to place himself between their heads. One hand clutched the blond's shoulder, the other wove through messy black hair, and he joined their heated kiss. It was awkward at first -- noses crashed, teeth clicked -- but soon all three sets of lips moved against each other in languid pleasure.

~ * ~

"Please 'Mione, that wasn't what I meant at all. Honestly! There are two beds, and I won't perv over it. Of course I'd like to do all sorts of things with you; you're a beautiful woman, after all. But that isn't all I want. We had so much fun together tonight, didn't we? And you can't be comfortable out in the sitting room at night. This way you can sleep behind a closed door, and we can talk until we fall asleep. You can't imagine how much I want to wake up, and the first thing I see is your lovely face. That's all I meant, love."

Locked alone in the bathroom, Hermione listened to her potential boyfriend grovel from the other side of the door. She wasn't a mean person at heart, but that hardly prevented her from enjoying the normally unflappable Draco Malfoy, Prince of Slytherin, beg for forgiveness. How often did a girl get to hear such romantic things? And without being prompted! Her short relationship with Ron had proved that she was enough of a _normal_ female to crave a certain amount of emotional outlet. The redheaded git made a much better friend than companion, as he hadn't a romantic bone in his body. But Draco... he had serious possibilities.

_How long should I let him stew out there? It's not like we've declared undying devotion. Still, he needs to learn when to keep his mouth shut, and how to think through his words before making crass suggestions._

"-won't ever hex Harry again, if that's what it takes. Please give me another chance, Hermione."

His voice broke on her name, and she couldn't take it any longer. A quick flip of the lock had her face to face with a visibly distressed blond. His arms came up, then dropped again, as if he wanted to hold her but wasn't sure of how well his intentions would be received. She made up his mind by stepping into them and leaning her head against his shoulder.

" 'Mione..."

"Shh, you need to be more careful what you say, and how you say it."

"I will, promise. So sorry for-"

Before another round of pleasant but unnecessary pleading began, Hermione raised her face up to his. The look of uncertain yearning made up her mind, and she pressed her lips against his. Draco froze for several long seconds, then wrapped his arms around her; with a slow, sweet glide of mouth to mouth he tried to pour everything he wanted to say but kept messing up into this gentle kiss.

_Now that's more like it. See Hermione, some men are trainable._

~ * ~

Harry staggered into the study, laughing so hard he had to lean against the wall before he fell over.

When at first the triad made to move out of the kitchen, he'd been somewhat concerned about running into World War III. Draco's temper tantrums were volcanic, but Hermione was capable of much worse. Between the two of them, Harry had feared for his safety if they weren't behind a closed door or had taken their argument outside. Instead, he found himself squeezing past the couple's clench in the middle of the hallway. Lucius smirked at his son, muttering something about being 'whipped', while Severus just shook his head and walked past the clueless snoggers.

Eventually, the giggles died down enough for him to flop onto the sofa. His lovers each had glasses of brandy in hand, and offered one to him. "Well, now I've seen everything." Harry took a quick sip, attempting to wipe the grin off his face. "There's probably no other witch capable of keeping Draco in line. And no wizard able to keep up with 'Mione. But damn, the next time they get a row started, I want pictures!"

"Just remember, love," Lucius purred as he joined Harry on the couch, "She might well think the same of us. And as your closest friend, she will have more than adequate opportunity to accumulate blackmail material."

"Indeed." It was a tight fit, all three of them on the short sofa, but Severus made room by pulling his young lover half across his lap. "I must agree with you, however. Surprising as it is, Draco has finally met his match. The earth trembled, the oceans boiled, and some entrepenuer is making a bloody fortune on ice skates in hell."

"So... here we are." Two sets of eyes roamed over his body, making Harry feel like a gourmet dessert. "Would sirs like some whipped cream or fudge sauce?"

Instant fire lit behind silver eyes. Lucius lunged in to capture the teen's lips in a heated kiss brought on by the suggestion. From behind Harry's back, Severus growled in agreement and attacked his ear. Had he been able to think properly, Harry would have made notes regarding the sweets kink shared by his lovers. _I have lovers! Plural! Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy are **my** lovers... Oh man, this is way too weird. Not that I want to change anything, but oh man!_

~ * ~

Soothing strokes along her back had Hermione arching into the touch. Draco's knowledge of the female body should've made her bristle at his promiscuity. Instead, she silently applauded how good he made her feel. His hands never ventured beyond publically acceptable areas, his kisses were gentle and light, but dear Merlin did he make her feel wonderfully feminine!

She could barely recall why she was upset with him in the first place. It was a given that two such strong-willed, forceful personalities as themselves would clash from time to time. Of course, she hadn't expected it to happen so soon after their lovely evening together, but this was Draco Malfoy. Where Ron had been tempermental and mule-headed, he at least had a pattern of behavior that was easily followed. Draco, on the other hand, was likely to change moods and interests over the least little thing. His mercurial shifts of attention, of passion, would keep her on her toes for a good long while. 

And Hermione wanted that.

It had never felt right, being with one of her best friends in a dating situation. And not that she believed in Divination, but perhaps she and Ron just weren't 'meant to be'. Especially now, after she had tasted the intensity of her new... companion, love interest (she wasn't ready to go that far), boyfriend (much too blase` for a Malfoy), significant other? But then it didn't really matter what she called him, as long as she could call him _hers_.

The possessive thought made her pause. Hermione had a bit of experience with dating -- not nearly as much as Draco, though who would? -- but enough to realize that such a territorial attitude was looked down upon by most people. Should she try to control that impulse, or would he revel in it? She felt that he might approve, preening under the knowledge that she wanted him so much. 

"Draco," she said, breaking their latest kiss. "If we're going to do this, you need to know something." The blond hummed against her throat, listening without a pause to his sensual exploration. "I don't share. Ever. So if you honestly want to be with me-"

"More than anything." His words sent a thrill down her spine. "I've never felt this way about anyone else."

Oh yes, her inner lioness was pleased. It wanted to mark its territory, right now! "Then you should know that, if we're together, we're all the way together. Exclusive rights, do you know what that means? If I find out you've been messing around with another person, I'll tear their eyes out. And then come for you."

"Kitty's got claws," he growled, nipping her jaw before moving far enough away for their eyes to meet. "I feel the same, Hermione. This has never happened to me, with any of the people in my past. But you... you bring out the barbarian in me. Every time I see someone else look at you, I want to beat my chest and drag you by the hair off to the nearest cave. You make me feel things that would horrify my ancestors, all the manners and decorum that is drilled into each generation of Malfoys."

She started to respond, but was cut off with a fast, hard kiss.

"Somehow, I think I've gotten the better end of the deal. For all their propriety and influence, most of the wealthier purebloods marry for reasons other than passion. The drive to continue the bloodlines, keep their inheritances within certain families... to look so very proper in the eyes of their peers. It's a cold life. But not with you. If I have to turn my back on them all, I don't ever want to lose what we could have together. Tell me you feel it too?"

Hermione's ever-active brain called for a time out. Had anyone put so much aside for her before? Only her parents, and Harry. She could practically hear the grinding gears of her heart as they reset to only respond to this man. He spoke of passion, and passion was a most appropriate term for what they shared. Fire and heat and the strongest emotions. Was it any wonder they had always fought? She laughed softly against his lips.

"Oh, I definitely feel the same, Draco. And maybe it's what I've felt for some time." She waited for the light of understanding to show in his eyes. "We might need to work on our tempers a bit, to keep from killing each other. But I think... we have to make a go of it."

~ * ~


	11. Chapters Thirty-two & Thirty-three

  
Author's notes: pairings are pairing off all over the place :P  


* * *

Here are the next two chapters. I'm trying to post them in chunks of two-four parts since they aren't as large as most of my story installments. For faster updates per chapter, everything's on my livejournal first.

** When Living Ain't Easy **

~ * ~

**Chapter Thirty-two : Moving On, Moving In, and Moving Up**

As had been suggested, Hermione moved her belongings into the bedroom. She wasn't truly concerned about the lack of propriety hinted at such a decision -- she and Draco were both of legal age to indulge in whatever antics they mutually chose to pursue. Besides, living in the sitting room was hardly conducive to privacy. That she felt a very strong urge to have privacy with Draco Malfoy of all people... only made her smile.

While the blond took a long bath, she spent the time carefully folding Harry's clothes, packing them into his trunk, and shrinking what wouldn't fit for easier delivery. A small smile took up permanent residence on her face as she overheard the laughter from the other bedroom. _They make Harry so happy. It's been years since he's laughed so much, smiled so often. He deserves them, and just maybe they deserve him too._

Having taken first call in the shower, she was already dressed in sleep clothes when Draco returned. His appraising look at her Disney t-shirt and stretch knit shorts (with Mickey Mouse as the Sorcerer's Apprentice, a funny gift from her parents) made her knees weak.

"See something you like, Malfoy?" Why did her voice sound so breathless, her mouth dry?

Grey eyes began their journey at her bare feet, traveled up her calves and thighs, lingered on her hips for a long moment, her waist for another, then burned molten silver across the tight material on her chest. By the time he finally locked gazes with her, Draco found it hard to fill his lungs.

"Several somethings, Granger. Care to share?"

Hermione stepped into his open arms, tilting her face up for his waiting lips. They hadn't spoken yet of boundaries, his or hers, but she refused to feel concern. It wasn't as if she was a trembling virgin, right? His mouth took possession of hers, the kiss so full of desire and territorial dominance that it left her gasping. Not wanting to so easily accept the submissive role, she dragged her fingernails across his chest, thanking the heavens that he was only in sleep trousers. She located his nipples and tweaked them roughly, preening as he growled in pleasure.

"Wait, 'Mione, if you want to take this slowly, you need to stop **now**!" Draco nibbled his way up her neck, breathing soft puffs of air across the dampened flesh. "Or at least let me return the favor."

What to do, what to do... A dazzlingly handsome wizard stood in her arms, wanting nothing more than to send her into orbit with orgasmic bliss. Should she put him off, or accept the passion he so clearly intended to bestow upon her? _Tough call. Not!_ She gave her snarky inner voice a whap. _Don't start sounding like Lavender, you twit._

In answer, she pushed aside his arms and stepped back. The nearly destroyed expression on his face confirmed her decision. _gods, look how much he wants me._ With a tiny hint of a smile on her swollen lips, Hermione's hands slowly lifted her top up her torso, across her sensitised breasts, and over her head. She tossed it onto her bed and looked back to find Malfoy's ever-cool facade abandoned, in pieces at her feet.

The more wicked, infinitely feminine part of her purred its satisfaction at his response. Even with her minimal experience, she could play the seductress. "So, are we on equal ground now?" She asked, crossing her arms under her breasts to push them up for better effect.

Draco gulped. Loudly. With great eloquence.

That inner lioness grumbled happily at her target's reaction. _Possession is nine-tenths of the law. Seems like he wants to be possessed, doesn't it?_ To which Hermione could only agree, without complaint. Was she ready to go so far, so fast? A quick check of her morals and conscience gave her two thumbs up, and even the snarky little nag that liked to complain about anything fun was suspiciously silent.

One step put her back in his arms. A second step pressed them together from toes to chests. She rolled her shoulders to make her nipples graze across his light scattering of translucent chest hair, and nearly laughed aloud as his eyes rolled back.

"Fuck's sake, 'Mione, are you trying to kill me?" Draco kept his eyes closed while his hands settled on her waist. He needed a few deep breaths to calm himself before an unfortunate accident occurred, in his favorite silk pyjama pants.

Leaning up against him to bring her mouth directly against his ear, Hermione whispered, "Fuck, hmm? Is that what we're about to do?"

In a move so fast it made her head spin, Hermione found herself spread out across her bed, flat on her back, with an obviously aroused Slytherin straddling her hips. The evidence of his desire for her was deliciously ego-stroking. Her hands were pinned by his, but she hardly needed hands to drive him crazy. Using a move she had seen on late night television, Hermione squirmed beneath him, undulating her pelvis up into his erection.

"Hermione," her name came out as a tortured wail, "it's not fair to tease."

She arched her neck up as far as it would go, licking a stripe across his chin with only the tip of her tongue. "Who says I'm teasing?"

Draco unclenched his eyes and stared down into hers, looking for proof that she wasn't really trying to drive him insane. What he saw was Hermione's lovely face, open and easy to read, declaring without words her intent to be his. To make him hers. His hold on his inner barbarian slipped, and before he had the chance to warn her, it brought their mouths together in a searing kiss.

This was what she wanted. Passion and desire, honest lust instead of comfortable friendship. _Not that being friends wasn't important to a good relationship,_ her inner snark chimed in. But they had already made their peace and laid the foundations for a solid friendship. _This_ was something more, something special and priceless. Blood raced through her veins thick with endorphins and surging arousal. For all the experimentation she had done with Ron and a few others, no one had ever made her feel this close to orgasm with only a kiss.

He released his hold on her hands, allowing them to clasp around his shoulders. Bracing one knee firmly on the bed, Draco moved the other in between her legs. "So hot, 'Mione," said as his lips traveled between her mouth and neck. His cock sought and found friction at the crease of her hip, making him moan into her collar bone. "How far, love?"

The question barely managed to sink through her deliciously fuzzy consciousness. There was a firm thigh pressing in just the right place, teeth and tongue doing delightful things, and fingers plucking gently at her nipples. With none of the traditional Know-It-All vocabulary, she explained her confusion with a questioning grunt.

Draco hated having to be the voice of reason, but he couldn't stand the idea of her hating him for taking liberties either. Every movement stopped, he waited until her eyes opened to ask, "Hermione, how far do you want this to go tonight?"

All the lovely new sensations stopped and a voice broke through the erotic haze. "Hmm... can we get off without..."

"Without me being inside you? Yes, certainly." He lapped at both breasts for a moment, then said, "There are numerous ways that don't involve penetration. Frottage, oral stimulation -- although some people argue that the mouth is penetrated -- hands, legs..."

"Gods Draco, if you give me too many options, I'm going to wear you out trying them all." Hermione pushed up against his cock, grinning wickedly when his eyes rolled once more.

_Two could play at that game._ "Alright then, leave me the choice and see what you get."

That sounded like a superb idea to her, especially when he pulled down both shorts and knickers before shedding his own pants. She only got a quick glimpse at his naked body, but what she saw sent a fresh wave of shivers coursing down her spine to pool in her crotch. Before she could ask what he had planned, Draco swung around until his face was eye level with her dripping mons, his erection bobbing against her cheek. It didn't take a genius to get the picture.

Draco swept his tongue in between her inner lips, gathering his first taste of her juices. "Will this suit m'lady?"

With his beautiful prick in reach, Hermione was reduced to monosyllables. "Gods. Yes. Now?"

~ * ~

From his comfy position against Severus' chest, Harry's face flamed. "Merlin! And they teased us about silencing charms... Who woulda thought 'Mione could talk like that?"

Lucius returned to bed with a warm, damp towel and proceeded to wipe off the evidence of their most recent pleasure from his lovers and himself. "I now know more about my son's... attributes than I'd ever hoped to know."

Harry snickered, grateful to have another direction in which to place his nervous humor. "Are you sure about that, Luc? After all, I've heard the rumors about kinky pureblood _rites of passage_. And you and Draco are two sexy men. I kinda want to see-"

Severus shut him up most efficiently by sealing their mouths together for a heated kiss. Over Harry's head, the older wizards' eyes met and Lucius relayed his gratitude for the change of subject. Then he decided to express his thanks in a more direct manner, causing Severus to growl into Harry's mouth.

"Lesson number three, Mr Potter : multi-tasking."

~ * ~

**Chapter Thirty-three : Divulging and Taking the Dive**

Early morning sunshine filtered through the light curtains above her bed, gently bringing Hermione out of the depths of her dreams. _And very pleasant dreams they were, too. Mmm, there's much to be said about a man with experience._ She indulged in a slow stretch, relishing the mild burn as each muscle group was brought into use. Lowering her arms, one came into contact with a warm shoulder. _Speak of the demon..._

Awake and alert, Draco Malfoy was an exquisite specimen of wizard, but like this, hair sleep-rumpled and face lax, he exuded an air of innocence that few would believe he still possessed. She took her time investigating every inch of visible flesh on her lover's body, taking careful inventory of the areas that bore her marks from the previous night. _He called me his wildcat, and from the looks of things, that isn't very far from the truth. Merlin, is that a_ bite mark _?_

Feeling somewhat guilty but only the tiniest bit embarrassed, she pressed a tender kiss to the blemish and slid out of bed. In only minutes, she had fresh clothes and toiletries in hand, and made her way to the bathroom for a quick shower. It wasn't her morning to cook, but she could at least start tea and coffee and toast.

Her first glance in the mirror made Hermione gasp aloud. _Damn! Looks like I'm not the only one to leave marks. And the state of my hair... dear gods, if we're going to continue to be this hard on my hair, I'd be better off cutting it short._ Hickies and love bites, as well as the occasional welt from dull fingernails, covered most of her torso in front and back, and most of her thighs. There wouldn't be any way to disguise Draco's handiwork, even if she wanted to. _But I don't want to hide them. How very odd! I remember all too well the screaming match with Ron when he left one tiny bruise, but I_ want _to carry Draco's marks. Hermione Jane, you have some serious thinking to do._

Hermione walked down the hall feeling refreshed and positively giddy. For the first time in her short dating career, she honestly felt **right** with her partner. A strong, intelligent man who could match her thirst for knowledge, her ferocious dedication to friends and family, and her newly discovered passionate nature. Of course, there were other men who might fit that bill as well, but not like her Slytherin Prince. She caught the lovestruck sigh before it could make any sound. _Snap out of this, right now! You are **not** some sort of bubble-headed trollop to fall over yourself trying to capture his attention, then bare all to keep it. Except that you _ did _... Oh dear, no! What'll he think of me now?_

She was so wrapped up in her internal monologue that she turned the corner into the kitchen and collided with a firm, silk-clad chest. 

"Careful, Hermione." Lucius caught her as she started to stumble backwards, then got a good look at her face. Had his son done something to bring about this change in mood, or was it due to Hermione's overactive brain second guessing their new relationship? "I woke early this morning, thanks to _someone_ kicking in their sleep." He silently applauded himself when the mock-stern quip won a light chuckle. "There's tea and toast ready, if you'd like to join me?"

Engaging her lover's father in a meal and conversation was hardly Hermione's ideal way to cope with the myriad questions racing through her mind. But to do otherwise would bring more questions, ones she was less capable of answering. She accepted a plate of toast and cup of tea, already doctored to her tastes.

"Thank you, Lucius," she said before sipping the invigorating brew. "My, this is much stronger than I'm used to!" It would be terribly rude to criticize his efforts, and Hermione prided herself on good manners. Anything to keep her from thinking about... _No, change the topic!_ "What are we working on today? It feels like months since we last sat down for research and planning."

The older man chuckled and nodded his agreement. "It certainly has been an eventful few days, hasn't it? I suspect that Severus will need to throw together the first of his fake potions and deliver them this evening. While he is occupied with that, the rest of us should split two other tasks : exploring the possibilities of Harry's voodoo project, and creating a work portfolio and job references for me. Regardless of how much time we have before the new school term begins, it would be best to utilize our time wisely. Course schedules and textbooks, syllabi and staff meetings... so many complications go along with a teaching post. It has been a... very long time since I was last in this position, and I really don't want to make a mess of things."

What remained of the fog-like fugue in Hermione's brain was blown away by the elder Malfoy's speech. Not that he'd said anything truly profound, not at all. Simply considering how **not** a morning person his son was, to see the father so vivacious only an hour past dawn? It boggled the mind! She forced herself to close her mouth.

"You're very loquacious today, Lucius. Wouldn't have anything to do with a certain shuffling in our sleeping arrangements, would it?" She needled him in good humor.

His eyes flashed, a teasing glint directed solely at her. "Now now, that would not be an appropriate topic to discuss without an exchange in information." He leaned toward Hermione, whispering conspiratorially, "Unless you'd like to talk about how _hung like a horse_ my son is, or how well he uses his tongue, hmm?"

Hermione's cheeks flared into a deep burgundy. Meekly, she asked, "We forgot the silencing charms?"

He laughed, not out of spite. "I daresay you remembered them, but your activities resulted in the shattering of such precautions."

"That can happen?! What about anti-conception charms? Oh... shite!"

Amused at the young lady's display, Lucius let her stew for a few minutes before correcting her, "Certain charms can be broken, others cannot. Have no fear of unwanted pregnancy, as it is highly unlikely that even the most powerful climax could alter that particular spell. On the other hand, a silencing charm is not meant to withstand certain pitches -- those most often achieved by a woman who has been well pleased." He paused long enough for her to meet his eyes. "I do hope he has pleased you, Hermione."

What was she supposed to say to _that_? Surely there weren't many fathers who were more concerned about their sons' lover reaching orgasm than the threat of a child out of wedlock. Except... a marriage could be performed after conception, whereas there was little to be done about the missed opportunity of insufficient sex. _These Malfoy men will never cease to amaze me with their unique outlook on life. And thank the gods that I've had the chance to get to know this side of them both._

"No, thank you. For allowing us the chance to rectify a long-standing misjustice."

"Damn, I said that outloud?" He nodded once, a wicked little grin on his lips. Her foul mood at an end, she switched gears to tackle the mischievous Slytherin. "Well then, shouldn't you work toward correcting your previous behavior a bit more? I'm quite sure to be owed at least five years worth of apologies, in one form or another."

Lucius' mouth went slack in surprise, then a full-blown smile took over. "Hermione Granger, you might just be the only witch who could tame my son. We might just bring out your inner Slytherin yet."

Snickering to herself, she got up from the table to rinse off her dishes, throwing over her shoulder one last evocative comment: "What about bringing in my outer Slytherin? I'm fairly sure that your son has applied for the job."

Lucius' delighted laughter followed her back down the hall.

~ * ~

_things were moving too quickly for him to follow. a flash of faces, some in triumph, others in agony. another flash, overwhelming terror, not his own but for someone he cared for deeply. 'mione? 'mione!_

" 'Mione!"

Soft arms enfolded him, easing his rise from the depths of a vision. A cool hand pressed against his fevered forehead, brushing damp locks of hair out of his eyes and soothing the mild ache left behind by his latest dream. A beloved voice whispered that it was all over, he was safe. Turning over to burrow into her chest, Draco let himself be comforted.

After several quiet minutes of closeness, he broke the silence. "Sorry about that. Happens sometimes."

"Shh, it's alright, love. Was it a normal nightmare, or something else?" 

Hermione's honest concern made him want to weep. Few people dared to show such affection for the Lords Malfoy, and fewer still would care to try. He sent a plea to the gods to allow him this one confidante, and felt a surge of reassurance. A single tear escaped as he allowed the relief its outlet.

"Definitely falls under the category of 'something else'." His voice was still hoarse, both from sleep and calling out her name. "Could I have some juice or coffee before we begin? Need to be fully alert to explain it properly."

"Of course, how stupid of me!" Hermione pulled out her wand and summoned a jug of orange juice and two glasses, then helped him sit up against her chest at the headboard of the bed. While he sipped, she took inventory of her lover's state. He might have looked well-rested when she first woke, now he was in complete disarray. His hair mussed, his face lined with stress, the heaving of his chest -- all testament to his troubled dreams.

With the last swallow of juice, he coughed to clear his throat and sat up beside her, immediately missing her heat. "This is better told with a bit of space. It might sound crazy -- everyone knows your opinion of Divination -- but I swear it's the truth." He saw not an ounce of negativity on her face, only expectation. That alone gave him the courage to finally include another human in his secret. "I am a... conduit, for lack of a better word. The Ancient Ones will occasionally "bless" me with Sight, but up until this summer I was never a part of what I Saw. What happens to me is worlds apart from that loony old bat Trelawny. There are no rambling prophecies, no euphoric states in which to lose myself. Flashes of the future, scenes slipping past so quickly that I can barely grasp what I've seen... It's almost enough to drive a man insane."

Hermione watched his expression carefully, reading from it what she couldn't glean from his words. The developing picture was not a pretty one. She opened her mouth to offer some comfort, but Draco's fingers pressed against her lips to forestall the sympathy.

"It was... not my _choice_ exactly, but I did accept the gift, Hermione. They've never affected me quite so much before, and they probably wouldn't now except that," his voice trailed off with a sigh, then he captured her lips in a hard kiss. The brief contact was enough, he could continue. "Except that now, the primary participants are friends of mine. You and Harry, Father and Severus. There are other faces, but they blur before I can identify them. As if some key action must occur before the others will be officially a part of the vision." Here he paused, needing a calming breath. "I can't lose you, 'Mia, not now. I've just found you."

She had almost expected him to break down after completing his tale, and she wasn't disappointed in that. But instead of holding him close, his arms wrapped around her in such a tight embrace that she could hardly breathe. A wiggle and a slight shift eased the problem, and she let herself relax. Being used as a teddy bear, a comforting presence, was new to her. New, and thoroughly welcome.

~ * ~

Harry had been jostled out of a sound sleep when his blond lover fell out of bed -- quite literally, although he looked damned good doing it. He was too comfortable to bother getting up though, and he snuggled close into Severus' side. Dozing off and on, he caught himself several times trying to climb inside his lover's skin. That was just not on, but in his squirming he did discover something interesting. And potentially entertaining.

His first foray into pleasing a man orally had gone fairly well. Not only did Severus seem to enjoy it, Harry decided it was almost as thrilling for him as for his target audience. Holding the most sensitive part of his lover's body between sharp teeth was more than a mild power trip, but even better was the sensual feelings he could offer. _Pain and pleasure, can't be one without the other, right?_

Wiggling down the older man's body, Harry eventually came face to... head with his goal. Blushing lightly, he recalled both men ribbing him about the habit of wearing trousers to bed -- he had lost, naturally, and now he was grateful not to be forced into an argument with Severus' nightwear. His lovely cock was full and hard, glistening slightly at the tip, and seemed eager for attention. Specifically, for Harry's mouth. Or so he allowed himself to believe.

He'd managed to suck down the first half before Severus' eyes opened, immediately seeking Harry's. Their gazes caught, neither could look away. Harry continued his slow, steady lovemaking, and Severus remained prone and pliant. 

As he felt his climax approach, Severus placed a hand atop his lover's head, urging him to stop. "Harry, this may be moving too fast for you, but if you feel ready... I would like to feel you inside of me."

Had he not been concentrating so hard on giving the most pleasure for his lover, Harry could easily have creamed the sheets just by the act of providing fellatio. When his movements were forcibly called to a halt, he drew deep breaths to call back his orgasm, then had to quickly clasp the base of his prick as Severus' suggestion threatened to throw all control out the window. His eyes crossing in suppressed sensation, he laid down against his lover's leg and did his best to will down the throbbing ache in his groin.

"Harry...?"

"Give me a second, Sev," muffled into the mattress. He finally lifted his face, eyes begging for relief. "I don't suppose there's some clever Slytherin spell to prevent a guy from coming too soon, is there?"

Severus' commiserating chuckle helped a little. "Actually there are a few spells that will do as you wish, with varying degrees of success. If you will allow me?" Harry's quick nod of acceptance showed how very much the young man trusted him, and caused Severus' own arousal to climb higher. A wave of his hand and a string of Latin, and Harry felt more in control again.

"Right, that worked a treat, thanks!" He slithered up the bed to engage Severus in a sloppy kiss (which, it must be said, brought forth no complaints). "I came in on the second act last night... you'll have to tell me what to do."

Severus walked him through the steps of preparing a lover for penetration, and quickly found out how fast Harry learned those topics which held some interest for him. With three fingers up his fundament, he was seconds away from ordering the young man to get on with it... when who should walk in but their blond counterpart.

"Well well well, what have we here?" Lucius' smooth voice betrayed his amusement in their expressions of mild guilt. "Oh don't mind me, gentlemen. I can sit this one out, enjoy the view. Or perhaps you'd rather I waited outside?"

He felt like an utter fool, and a hypocrite at that. After so many years of begrudging Lucius for his marriage and assorted dalliances, here he was, ready to take someone else's cock up his arse. "Luc... I..."

No matter how entertaining the situation was (from his perspective), Lucius wasn't cruel enough to continue toying with them. Especially Severus, who had so recently admitted that he'd never had another lover. This was a huge step for both brunets, one that would be best accomplished without his silver tongue distracting their activities.

"Severus, I was teasing you both. Please do continue, and I shall keep myself over here." Two voices protested, but he raised a hand and called their attention away from complaints. "Unlike you, Sev, I have always found it to be incredibly erotic, watching another couple making love in front of me. That is, if it would not make either of you uncomfortable?"

Heading toward the cozy armchair nearest their southern window, Lucius removed each article of clothing as Harry exchanged one of 'those' looks with Severus. Had the situation been less tense, both older wizards might have called him on that. As it was, he received an impatient thrust from Severus' arse down onto the fingers he had never removed. All this time, Lucius was watching him finger their lover... Harry thanked every deity he could remember for Sev's 'safety valve' spell.

"Harry, if you don't hurry up, I'm going to mount Lucius. He looks entirely too comfortable over there, by the way. Would sometime today be good for you, or should I make an appointment to be buggered?"

His eyes nearly rolled full circle in their sockets at the imagery before Harry took himself in hand (literally and figuratively), kneeling between Severus' spread legs and placing the head at that tiny orifice. He gulped, took a shaky breath, and whispered, "How in hell is it gonna **fit**?!"

Twenty years his senior also meant twenty years more experience. Severus circumvented the teen's obvious nervousness by simply pushing down until he was filled with Harry's pulsing cock. Three separate moans met this action, and from the corner he could hear the wet, methodical slapping of Lucius' hand briskly moving on his own length. None of them would last long at this rate, and he was not at all disappointed by that prospect.

"Harry, take another breath or two, then start moving. We're all quite close already, so let's save the finesse for later, hmm?"

The Gryffindor did as instructed, then surprised his teacher by throwing Severus' legs over his shoulders for a better grip, the angle doing lovely things with his prostate. 

"Sodding hell, Sev, he's a natural!" 

Stars shooting across his vision, Severus could only bob his head in agreement with Lucius' apt observation. Every third thrust in had Harry's lovely prick rasping across the wonderful bundle of nerves. The younger man wasn't shy about his speed and strength either, which greatly appealed to Severus' tastes. As the sweat began to bead on Harry's brow, Severus took himself in hand and stroked in tempo with Harry's efforts. 

One particularly aggressive push brought him over the edge, dragging a shout out of Severus' gasping mouth. His arse clenched around Harry, and he barely remember to release the cockring spell before collapsing into a sated mass on the bed. Harry followed him into orgasm not long after, helped along by the warm spurts of Lucius' come shooting across his buttocks.

Harry gave up and folded over Severus' legs, exhausted and slightly shaken by the magnitude of sensation still coursing through his body. His mind refused to focus on anything more important than... "Luc, weren't you sitting in the chair? I mean, how'd you manage to come on my bum from there? You don't expect me to believe that you've got that much pressure built up..."

Both older men laughed tiredly. "No love, I... I was close to joining you, at the end. Had you not climaxed when you did, I was tempted to repeat yesterday's lesson."

"Mmm, you might want to stop, unless you're ready to be the next in line. Hormonal teen here -- I can probably get it up again in under five minutes." He opened one eye to glare at Severus. "Without a potion."

"We'll see, Harry. But perhaps we should locate breakfast and get some research accomplished first. As I recall, there are three or four tasks to work on today."

Harry groaned, Severus _pouted_ (though he denied the accusation loudly), and together pulled the sheets over their heads. Just before he dozed off once more, Harry let slip a mental smirk. _Ah yes, post-orgasmic lethargy held precedence over smiting the Dark Lord's thingy any day._


	12. Chapters Thirty-Four & Thirty-Five

  
Author's notes: New Chapters - No excuses, just fanfic goodness.  
With so much death and destruction surrounding him, Harry's mood turns bleak. The only people who see the whole scope of his problems, and can possibly fix them, are the ones whose very lives would be forfeit if they are seen aiding the Boy-Who-Lived.

* * *

**Title:** When Living Ain't Easy

**Author:** Rowaine

**Rating:** FRAO overall - these chapters are barely PG-13, sorry folks :P

**Pairings:** HP/SS/LM, HG/DM

**Genres:** Romance, Humor/Parody, Drama, Alternate Universe

**Warnings:** Adult Language, Sexual Situations, Threesome, OOC-ness

**Summary:** With so much death and destruction surrounding him, Harry's mood turns bleak. The only people who see the whole scope of his problems, and can possibly fix them, are the ones whose very lives would be forfeit if they are seen aiding the Boy-Who-Lived.

**Disclaimer:** If I had the great fortune of owning any of the boys, do you honestly think I'd share them?

**Author's Notes:** I'll try to be brief in my pitiful efforts at sucking up... The past several months have been hell, everything from the family's Round Robin of various bronchial infections (including hospital stays) to computer crashes and losing all my files. Suffice it to say that I'm praying to every deity I've ever heard of that this new year will be somewhat more sane than 2006. Not going to bore you with the whole list, but **_blah!_** Anyways, let's move along now. Posting a couple of chapters a week (as long as homelife allows) to make up for making you all wait.

**A/N2:** I'd like to thank everyone who sent reviews and emails. Your kind words and enthusiastic requests for more have truly been inspirational to me. Let's hope I can still live up to your expectations after so long, eh?

~ * ~

**Chapter 34: Birds and Bees 101**

Having been dragged from a comfortable mass of Slytherin snuggles, Harry finished his shower and stumbled into the kitchen. He'd left Severus and Lucius to get dressed for the day, with the intention of fixing breakfast... only to find that the other two occupants of the safehouse had beat him to the task.

"Well now, look who finally decided to crawl out of bed!" Hermione chirped teasingly, her curls bouncing in disciplined corkscrews from a large, burnished gold clasp at the top of her head. She barely resembled the over-the-edge intellectual friend Harry had grown to know so well, causing him to do a double take. 

Dipping his head down to kiss her cheek, Harry winked slyly at the blushing witch before offering his own brand of tease, "Y'know, if you're going to keep looking so damned good, I might have to try a little 'Mione-lovin' for myself." He only just managed to dodge a pale hand swatting at his head.

"Hands off, Gryffindork! This wonderful lady is all mine," Draco scolded, his voice seriously lacking the playful quality of his schoolmates. "If you feel the need to practice your dubious charms, kindly recall that you have lovers of your own just down the hall." And having said his peace, the blond wrapped his arms around Hermione's waist in a territorial show of affection.

Harry's first impulse was to hex the younger Malfoy away from his best friend... until he saw the fully contented expression on 'Mione's face. He had never seen her look so pleased, fulfilled even. That their long-term tormentor was the cause of such happiness didn't set well with him, but for her sake, Harry vowed to make every effort to keep his inner caveman from tearing the new couple apart. _'Mione's old enough, and definitely **smart** enough, to make her own decisions. If she trusts the ferret with her body and heart, then I don't have anything to complain about. But if he so much as makes her pout..._

A softly cleared throat interrupted Harry's sidetrip into ferret-bashing revenge. "If you two are quite finished with your insecure male posturing, there's a very late lunch to prepare. We weren't sure how long you, Lucius and Severus would be _cough_ occupied, so all that's ready is tea and toast."

Ignoring the unavoidable blush, Harry swept past his classmates to inspect the contents of the refrigerator and cupboard. _Not that they bothered moving out of the way for me, or even separated... huh. Gonna have to get used to that, if he really makes her that happy. There's no way I'm gonna be the one causing my 'Mione any pain._ A quick glance over his shoulder sent a shiver of something through him. _I'm **not** jealous! I've got Sev and Luc, and even before Ginny I never felt that way about Hermione... Maybe it's just because they can be open about their relationship in the magical world? After people scream about the Gryffindor/Slytherin thing, they're still a "normal" couple -- guy and girl. But no, that shouldn't matter, right? Gay and lesbian couples are pretty common, accepted even. Don't remember hearing about many triads though... Alright Harry, note to self: ask the know-it-alls for a history lesson about polyamorous bondings._

During his internal monologue, the two older Slytherins had joined their students in the kitchen. They exchanged a quick glance without remorse -- something was bothering their young lover, which held precedence over Harry's irritation about the silent communication.

Lucius quietly ushered the cuddling couple toward the dining table and approached the frowning young wizard. Joining them, Severus cast a wandless silencing spell to offer them privacy. One pale hand rested on Harry's left shoulder while potion-stained fingers curled around his right bicep. He looked up and saw the concern on both dear faces, shaking his head to clear the disturbing thoughts from their tentative hold on his own peace of mind.

"Don't shut us out, Harry," Severus began, followed immediately by Lucius' admonition, "Whatever is bothering you, we must hear about it before we can work toward a solution."

Harry snorted in derision at himself. "You guys don't even need that _look_ thing, do you? You're almost as bad as the Weasley twins."

The evil Potions Master persona growled menacingly at the comment. "I take exception to that accusation, Mr. Potter. Kindly remember that Lucius and I have twice the experience as any of your friends." Dark eyes flickered briefly at the blond in question, twinkling with humor. "We are, without doubt, infinitely more annoying. When the mood strikes, of course."

"Oh, of course," Harry snorted. He opened his mouth to continue the light-hearted banter, but his words had no means of exit. He could only moan around Lucius' tongue as the blond kissed him to distraction.

Lifting his mouth barely an inch from the stunned young man, Lucius smirked at the glazed eyes of which he was the direct cause. "That, my dear Lion, is a much better look than a sulk. Mmm," he purred, nuzzling his way up to whisper in Harry's ear. "Do tell us what has occurred in the half hour since our delightful lovemaking to transform your mood from thoroughly sated to this pensive pouting."

The order -- for that was most definitely what it was, no matter how the words went straight to his groin -- drew Harry from his latest flush of arousal. Caught between his previous worries and the present's erotic play, he was loath to voice his concern and bring an end to the wonderful sensations both lovers were offering. A quick squeeze on his right made the decision for him, however, and he flicked a sighing glare at Severus before answering.

"Fine, it's just... me being stupid, I guess. And we don't really have time for it anyway, right? We need to eat something and get back to work, make sure everything's ready for Sev's meeting with Voldie and Luc's interview with McGonagall, and a hundred other things." Twin murmurs warned that his lovers would not be patient for long, and Harry finally gave in. "Yeah, okay, here's the thing: I know the magical world is more accepting of same sex couples than the muggle world, but what about our situation? I don't remember hearing about triads or group marriages or anything, which probably means that they don't happen often or don't last long enough to be noticed. I mean, it's going to be big enough news when the papers get word that I'm going gay now... but if they find out about the three of us? Voldemort won't have to work hard at taking over, because everyone will be on the floor already, either from laughing at the "joke" or gagging or something. And Luc, I know you've got Draco as an heir, but Sev hasn't had a kid yet, and I sorta wanted children one day, and how's that supposed to work? We may have all these great spells and magic to do what muggles can't, but there's no spell or potion to make a guy pregnant, is there?"

Severus' hand called a halt to the flood of half-hysterical questions, covering the teen's mouth. "Harry, hush," his smooth voice calmed the boy almost at once. "Is this a conversation that can be discussed in the presence of Draco and Hermione, or should we move elsewhere?"

Green eyes widened dramatically, only just recalling that there were indeed two other people present for his near-fall into panic. He threw a look over his shoulder, finding the new couple to be studiously attempting not to be noticed in their eavesdropping efforts -- silencing spell be damned. But this subject wasn't as personal as many he could think of, so... 

"Except for letting on that I'm kinda jealous about how much more easily they'll be accepted than us, there really isn't anything they can't hear, y'know?"

Severus bowed his head in acknowledgment and released the spell, while Lucius claimed a slower kiss before steering the triad back toward the table. The other teens sat together quietly, with no questions asked or comments made. Harry didn't fool himself for one moment that his best friend and best (former) rival weren't contemplating this latest meltdown, but he was grateful for their current silence. 

Two pots of tea, a tray of sandwiches, and all the various necessary accessories floated over to the table as the group made themselves comfortable. Waiting only long enough for each person to fix their own cup and plate, Lucius stared off into space while his thoughts organized. "Harry," he waited until the young man's eyes met and held his own, "you are not being stupid. Your questions are valid, perhaps moreso due to your unfavorable experiences with the media. And yes, we must spend some time in preparation for this evening's events. However, you should never feel as if your happiness, your state of mind, places second to anything else. Jobs, school, housework, whatever -- all will be put aside to reassure you."

Nodding agreement at the blond, Severus voiced his insight, "Please do not make the mistake of assuming that the general population in our world will react with the same blind intolerance as your blood kin have shown. There are, naturally, a certain percentage who will curl their lips and sneer if you do anything to disprove their ideal of the Boy-Who-Lived image. Such small-minded fools should be given a wide berth, and all the recognition their opinions demand. (That would be _nothing_ , in case there was any doubt.)" He lifted a hand to cup Harry's chin, taking note of the almost-flinch the gesture provoked. "However, I think you shall find that those idiots are in the definite minority. Our culture is moderately more civilized than the muggle world in this respect. Gender, race, religious or sexual preference... each group has often been isolated, targeted for scorn and derision by one psychophant or another in the muggle world. Such is not the case for us, Harry."

"No kidding! In all the reading I've done, the only times same sex bondings are mentioned is when the couple has accomplished something truly special, like a new class of spells or potions, or a different method of enchanting objects," Hermione's voice caught her friend's attention. Her eyes sparkled as she summarized for the group, "There are no more or less stories available than for so-called "normal" couples. It's quite refreshing, really."

Draco pinched his girlfriend before she could venture into full lecture mode, landing a quick kiss to her lips to soften the interruption. "I hadn't ever thought about how many things must seem odd for those raised outside our world, but now Voldemort's views almost make sense." He waited until each person's attention was completely directed at him before offering an explanation, "Our culture has been "above" such petty disputes for over a thousand years now, accepting each individual on his or her own merits. The fact that most muggles still insist on labeling each other by their gender or sexuality, color of skin or religion... it does seem to make them seem childish in comparison."

"Too true! Not that I can condone the random destruction of muggles," was Hermione's retort.

"Of course not, Mia. Understanding another's point of view hardly equates to agreeing with them."

At the threat of an unnecessary, if interesting, tangent, Lucius clapped his hands twice to direct the conversation back on track. "As enlightening as I'm sure the debate would be, we should perhaps postpone it for a later time, yes?" His son's ears turned pink at the gentle reprimand, while the witch's expression indicated both embarrassment and rebellion at being cut off. "Now, returning to the _original_ subject matter... Harry, there is nothing wrong with us being together. Even the age difference will matter little to most people, thanks to our extended life expectancies. At sixteen, you are above the age of consent, even in the muggle world. And with your seventeenth birthday only a few weeks away, you are very near to gaining your majority. While researching with Hermione, perhaps you have noticed the rather dismal birth rate among magical people?"

Harry nodded, then opened his mouth to ask what this twist in subject had to do with his original worries. A warm, herb-colored hand covered his mouth.

"Harry, in many ways, the magical world is far advanced -- in both the moral and legal sense -- of the muggle world. Unfortunately, our higher degrees of natural magical energy seems to prevent us from multiplying as easily as muggles."

Severus poked his friend in the side, calling an abrupt halt to the tirade. "Such is our dear Lucius' pet theory. Hermione, perhaps you would like to join efforts with Luc to either prove or disprove his supposition, hmm?" The witch fairly vibrated in her seat, having found a new challenge that appealed to her innate curiosity. Severus rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, then redirected his speech at Harry. "We value our children, as a continuance of our culture and heritage, as heirs to the family name or fortune, but most importantly as proof of our love for each other. It may seem to be a trite observation, but there you have it." He didn't wait for a counter-argument from the gallery before angling the subject once more, "And as such, a pair of enterprising wizards (some fourteen hundred years ago) decided that every witch or wizard deserved the chance to create new life from their love. They formulated five separate potions, plus a handful of spells, that can enable a wizard to carry out a full-term pregnancy and deliver a healthy baby. Originally, these were meant to facilitate gay and lesbian couples to reproduce, but many pureblood families rely heavily on them to guarantee conception."

"There are severe drawbacks to using the spells in such a manner. One of the main ones being the probability of becoming sterile, as my former wife found out," Lucius forced out through gritted teeth. "Cissy was vain enough that she only wanted to gestate a single pregnancy, and so took the Coercere Prægnans potion in order to _cough_ secure her position." He manfully ignored his son's snort of disgust at Narcissa's self-centered reasoning. "Quite a few pureblood families utilize a similar method on their wedding night, even going so far as to demand it in their vows. But as you can see, this has not strengthened our bloodlines."

Harry's mind raced with the overload of information. True, the conversation had turned from his original concerns... but so much was made clear! Nearly bouncing, he joggled free of his lovers' reassuring touches. "It actually makes sense! I mean, if women are taking these potions or using these spells when their bodies are naturally more accepting of becoming pregnant, then they're overloading their systems to the point where they can't have more than one or two kids. Instead of the hit-or-miss that nature relies on, they force the issue -- one sure thing, then _wham_ sorry, that's all folks!"

Severus nodded with a small, approving smile. "Exactly so. I believe it became something of a matter of pride, as most homosexual couples using either potion or spell could expect results in the first three tries, the heterosexual couples wished for such consistent results. Damning themselves in the process. Most wizards who conceive may only do so, safely, two or three times before their bodies begin to reject the foetus. Of course, as there is more than one man in such a situation, they could feasibly have between four and six children before such methods are no longer useful."

"Wow, can you imagine the baby boom we'd have if every relationship had such good odds?" Hermione's eyes were round as saucers, quickly doing the math for herself. She began to offer her rough figures, then paused. Thought a second time. Then a puzzled look crossed her face and stuck there. "But if that's the case, why do so many people give the Weasleys a hard time about having so many kids? Surely it isn't as simple as jealousy?"

Lucius accepted the volley with a nod of his head. "In most cases, that is exactly it. Regardless of our cultural acceptance, magical people are just as susceptible to the lesser emotions as muggles. If someone had promised me more children, I would gladly have given my wand... my manor... _snort_ definitely my wife! She failed to discuss with me her intention to use Coercere Prægnans, only informing me well after the fact, as she smugly announced her first and last pregnancy over tea. By that time, Arthur and Molly had created five sons, with another on the way. I must admit to feeling more than a bit green over the unfairness, not to mention how I'd already begun to suspect the likelihood of sterility. Ah well, nothing to be done about it now."

Watching from beneath lowered lashes, Harry saw the deep regret behind his blond lover's public mask. _There might not be much to be done about it right now, but if we stay together... Two with Luc, and two more with Sev... And the thought of carrying a baby is weirdly appealing. Huh. Maybe I should talk with 'Mione about this first._

It would hardly take a Leglimens to decipher the contemplative expression on Harry's face. Each person in the room saw the thoughtfulness turn into calculation, and made their individual plans to "discuss" the Golden Boy's new-found goal.

~ * ~

_Coercere Prægnans loosely translates to "Forced Pregnancy"._

~ * ~

**Chapter 35: Get Back to Work!**

"Alright then, have we had enough of the pity party, Harry?"

All eyes turned to face the speaker, but Hermione didn't even blush. She knew her friend better than anyone else, and understood that, if he wasn't pushed back to the immediate work at hand, he would simply dwell on his troubles until they ate away at his self-esteem.

Scolding the group at large, she gave the quartet of wizards a scathing look. "Clearing up a few misconceptions is all fine and well, but if we don't get moving, there's going to be some serious pain headed Severus' way tonight. And Lucius facing the Headmistress without sufficient preparation would be almost as lethal. So chop-chop! Everyone up and to the study."

Harry just chuckled, his mood lightening with the reminder of why he loved having 'Mione on his side. From the next chair over, Draco smacked a quick kiss to her cheek, but he was also familiar with the brilliant witch's "take charge" ways. Even Severus was amused, although he had never before been the target of such antics. Of the group, only Lucius sat there, gobsmacked, as if he were watching a collision between two rampaging hippogriffs in slow motion.

As he stood to do his friend's bidding, Harry patted the blond on his shoulder, saying, "Best hop to. Hermione doesn't like to be kept waiting, y'know."

Severus' deep laughter echoed from down the hall.

~ * ~

Through the combined efforts of 1) the smartest witch of her generation, 2) the wizard who had outsmarted the Dark Lord for almost twenty years, and 3) the most cunning Slytherin among his peers, Severus had ready a series of spells and minor potions to begin the "rejuvenation" process. Hermione and Draco enjoyed themselves... perhaps a bit too much. Their ideas bounced off each other with such speed that their teacher quickly gave up his attempts at keeping up with them. Eventually, he asked for a short, concise itinerary that would not get him killed, nor move things along too soon.

Across the room, Harry spent his time prompting Lucius in what to say to his former Head of House in order to make the desired impression. Not that they wouldn't tell McGonagall the truth if directly asked. But for her own safety, the Scottish witch needed to be able to claim "plausible deniability" concerning her newest DADA instructor. 

"We've got about two hours before Luc's portkey," Harry reminded the group as a whole, interrupting yet another tangent from the brain-strain duo. "Which should give him just enough time to come up with some sort of disguise and lock it in place. An hour after that, Sev leaves to do his voodoo on Voldietwat. Less preparation, more hazards. Anyone want a stiff drink?" He collapsed as the reality of what they were planning finally caught up with him. Before Harry's head hit the back of the sofa, a tumbler was placed in his hand. He didn't even bother opening his eyes before tossing it back in one hard swallow.

The door opened, footsteps indicated people leaving the room, followed by the door closing again. Harry heard this, peripherally, but it didn't seem to matter. Here he was, the Boy-Who-Lived, sending other people on missions to achieve his goals. The idea that two of his... loved ones?... were going into danger on his behalf didn't settle well at all. Granted, Lucius would only be in danger of being thrown into Azkaban again, but that hardly made the situation more tolerable. And Severus. He couldn't imagine being in the Potions Master's shoes, nor did he want to. His only consolation was that both wizards were well equipped in the arts of deception, having years of practice just to survive their respective roles.

Severus moved to kneel beside his young lover, glancing over toward Lucius as he went. Yes, another mood shift seemed likely. No, now was probably not the best time to distract him with sex. No, he knew of no way to reassure Harry beyond what had already been said and done. Yes, this needed to be resolved before either of them left for their meetings.

"Harry, love, look up at me," Lucius gently commanded, leaning against the arm of the sofa. When those murky green eyes lifted, the blond's breath caught. He had never been the target of such bleak despair before. "Oh love, we're going to be perfectly fine. Severus is unmatched at Occlumency, and after twenty years has yet to be suspected as a spy. He will arrive at the meeting place, listen to the Dark Lord spout off his usual nonsense, provide spells and potions, and then come home." Severus squeezed Harry's leg, his eyes shining with approval at his old friend's speech. "And I have a much more simple task: convince Minerva McGonagall that I am no threat to her students, and that I am competent enough to teach at least the lower years in DADA and Potions. Your suggestion that Sev and I split classes was quite good -- he has a firmer foundation in the higher year potions, while I have more patience with the younger ones. Now as long as the old cat doesn't try to get me drunk first..."

Harry smacked him on the hip, but his face was no longer crumpled in worry. "Yeah yeah, y'know, she's heard every "kitty" joke out there by now, right? If you could come up with a new one before your interview, you might impress her." His eyes closed for a moment, chewing his lips before breaking out into a grin. "Or she might hex you into the dungeons. Depends on how good the joke is."

Severus breathed a sigh of relief. The near catastrophe that was Harry Potter's emotionally-charged magic had been averted yet again. They really needed to find some way of training him to harness his energy better -- mental, magical and emotional -- for each sort was dangerous enough, but when they combined Harry became a lethal force of nature. _And thank the gods that Luc is so much better at soothing an emotional partner than I am! The only good I can see coming from his years with the self-centered witch._

He must have snorted or otherwise indicated his unbecoming thoughts, for two sets of eyes were focused his direction, both smirking.

"Yes, alright, Lucius is infinitely more suited to quelling the raging hormones that infest certain members of our society. Teenagers, naturally (a trick that will stand him in good stead at Hogwarts, I assure you), and women of any age." Throwing his hands in the air, he gracefully stood and stalked to the other side of the room, striking a pose against a bookcase. "Lucius, I assume you shall want first use of the facilities? Your meeting is an hour before mine, and you take much more time getting ready than I do."

At the none-too-smooth change of conversation, the blond pulled Harry to his feet, grinning over his shoulder at their third. "Hmm, I wouldn't object." Looking down at the delightful bundle in his arms, then over at Severus and back again, Lucius' smile went from teasing to leering. "Or... we could share?"

With his head tucked beneath Lucius' chin, only Severus could see the expression of devilish delight flicker across Harry's face. He voted to keep his own counsel and see what the adventurous young wizard had up his sleeve.

"Luc," Harry purred, his lips grazing the tender chords of muscle under the blond's left ear, "is there room for all three of us? I still haven't tasted you yet."

Harry found himself hugged so tight that he barely had enough air to squeak. He couldn't find it in himself to complain one bit.

~ * ~

The sounds of wet lips clashing echoed in the second bedroom. Hands roamed freely above clothes, and only with minor hesitation beneath. Hermione lifted her head far enough to study the heavenly effects a good, sound snogging gave to the ever-immaculate Draco Malfoy. His hair was thoroughly disheveled, his lips puffy and reddened, several small love bites made a trail from collar to earlobe, and his breath was coming fast. She felt a thrilling shiver of female satisfaction in knowing that she, Bookworm Granger, had made Mr. Ice Prince lose his perfect mask. That they could debate and bounce ideas off each other at a level most of their peers would never understand... well, that only made him more appealing. If such a thing was possible.

Hermione almost wanted to continue their earlier debate, but figured they had plenty of time for intellectual pursuits. At the moment, her boyfriend's chest held more fascination. And that was perfectly fine with her.

Eyes slitted with desire, Draco could find no fault in the lovely witch's choice. He too found it titillating to indulge in scholastic sparing, but coupled with the chemistry that had always been present between him and Hermione Granger? He'd be a twice-hexed fool for passing up the offer of her charms.

They rolled gently onto their sides, giving each the chance to finish removing their shirts. Stomach to warm stomach, the touch of skin further inflamed their senses. Draco's hands mapped out the smooth curves of Hermione's back, gliding down across the waist of her shorts to the flare of her hips. Hermione's lips continued to explore his chest, nibbling from one collar bone to the other before ducking down to softly tug one flat nipple with her teeth. The full-body shudder she received from the action only spurred her on, applying more force and gnawing the tight nub until it was pebbled to full hardness.

Against her hip, an answering hardness made itself known. She smiled around the morsel of flesh. In all of her (admittedly limited) experiences, she had never encountered a man so uninhibited in his own body's responses. It was refreshing, and a massive turn-on! The knowledge that she could bring such intense pleasure to a self-proclaimed womanizer did wonders for her morale. Her hips began to rock ever so gently against Draco's erection, bringing forth a series of spasms with each point of contact. As he shuddered, his body would tug slightly away from her lips, causing her teeth to dig in for purchase. The pleasurable pain forced his groin to buck back against her, repeating the process. Hermione decided that she could happily spend the rest of their lives learning how to torture the future Lord Malfoy with sensual bliss. _Forever's not going to be enough._

Draco's eyes had closed at some point -- he couldn't begin to guess when -- and flashes of sensation guaranteed that they stayed shut. Each time he thought he'd gotten used to something his wonderful witch was doing, she'd change the pace or pressure, or add a new twist to things. _This is what was missing from all the others. Adventure, the willingness to explore, bravery and action and ohgodsdon't stop!_ The tremors of orgasm were mere moments away...

_flashes of red eyes, satisfaction, malicious glee... twisted hopes coming to fruition, only to be used against the dark wizard... a trio of naked bodies, sweaty and undulating in evident sensual movement... words, chants, vows spoken... a crowd, flashing lights and noisy questions, tears and harsh words, held in soothing arms... miles of curls covering his chest, a warm arm holding tight throughout the night, whispers of promises... **You have pleased us greatly, young wizard. Knowing when to speak and when to remain silent is proof of wisdom far beyond your years. It is time to fulfill our promise to you, Draco Malfoy. Have you chosen this witch for your mate?**_

An image of the two of them, as seen from above, entered his mind. Did he want Hermione at his side, in his bed, for the rest of their lives? Could he see himself raising children with her, arguing and making up, facing health and illness? Forever was a very long time. Eternal damnation, if you picked the wrong partner. Or Eternity in paradise with the correct mate.

_**Yes, I would chose this witch, Hermione Jane Granger, as my mate. But only if that is what she wants as well. She gets to choose too, doesn't she?**_ The thought that the gods could _force_ her to be with him was appalling! Draco didn't believe that they'd do things that way, but he had to be sure.

_**The answer to your question must come from your woman, young Malfoy.** _

Shaking his head harshly, he took a deep breath to ready himself for the upcoming "talk".

"Mia, love, could you stop for a minute?" He stroked her face with his fingertips, hoping to convey that he didn't want to completely quit what they were doing. 

Hermione lifted her head again, her eyes thoroughly glazed. "Mmm, what's wrong, Dray?"

He had to smile. He, the second most hated git at Hogwarts, had made this darling woman look this pleasantly debauched. _Another time, Malfoy!_ Pushing himself up on one elbow, he looked directly into her eyes. "Do you remember when I explained about Seeing?" She opened her mouth to ask a question, but his fingers against her lips paused the words. "They've been hinting for awhile now that I'm due to find my lifemate. The one person who will complete me like none other, who can keep up with me on all accounts, and keep me on my toes at the same time. Someone who makes my heart race, my blood boil, my mouth go dry... and y'know what? I think you showed up a little earlier than they expected." Leaning over for a soft, nearly chaste kiss, Draco whispered against her lips, "Hermione... gods, this is going to sound so lame!"

"Draco," she nipped the tips of his fingers, then gently pushed them aside. "Are you asking-?"

"Hermione, we've always had sparks between us. From the first moment we met on the train to school, through every class, most winter breaks, dueling club and Hogsmeade weekends... we've fought and argued, challenged and taunted. And now we know that we can work equally as well together as against each other." He sat up and took her hands between his own, kissing her wrists. "Do you think you might be able to stand me... for good?"

Eyes wide, Hermione's breath caught in her chest. "Dray, you told me... forever, right?" He nodded, the smallest tip of his head. Seeing honest fear of rejection on the cocky Slytherin's features made her heart melt. If she hadn't already been thinking much the same thing, here was a vote of confidence from on high. "Yes."

It took him a moment to understand. Hermione's mind often switched gears without warning, but so far Draco had been able to keep up better than anyone else. Finally, the strong, certain "yes" made sense. He dived in for a passionate kiss, sucking her tongue into the moist corners of his mouth before returning the favor. The warmth of a hundred suns filled his body, offering a sense of completion he'd only dreamed of possessing. In between breaths, he sent the answer to his wish (prayer)...

_**Draco Malfoy, you have chosen most wisely. This woman will match your temperament, intellect, drives, and desires in every way. That she wants you as well is conclusive evidence of the solidity of this match. Our blessings on you both, Hermione and Draco. May your hearts teach your minds how to soar.** _

A single tear slid down the side of his face. Warm fingers brushed it away, then turned his face back to meet the sweetest, most gentle kiss he'd ever had.

Several long minutes later, Hermione's head dropped back onto her arm. She took a long look at her lover, only just noticing (by the lack) how tense he had been up to this point. Of course, it made perfect sense -- the security of knowing your permenance in someone's life would release a huge weight from her heart.

"So..." She waited until his eyes opened once more, then grinned up at him. "We're well-matched in every way, are we?"

Draco's jaw fell open. All he could do was goggle at her, while the understanding that she had heard _his_ voices soaked in.

"Hey now, I only heard the last bit. It was a very nice blessing too." Hermione's fingers toyed with his long, floppy bangs. "I wonder... do they chose a different blessing for each couple they approve of?"

_His_ voices! Heard by _his_ Hermione... Well, maybe he could share just a bit.


	13. Chapters Thirty-Six & Thirty-Seven

  
Author's notes: A few personal scenes between our favorite characters. Lotsa Lemons in these two chapters.  


* * *

**Title:** When Living Ain't Easy

**Author:** Rowaine

**Rating:** FRAO 

**Pairings:** HP/SS/LM, HG/DM

**Warnings:** Here there be citrus...

**Disclaimer:** Nope, not mine. But I'm perfectly capable of living in a blissful land of denial, and putting our luscious boys in sexy situations.

**Author's Random Ramblings:** Yes yes, I'm on a high right now. After almost ten months of hell in real life (sickness, comp probs, etc ad nauseum), my muse and I are having an orgy. Combine that with a really sweet sale on my favorite liquid poison (Fuzzy Navels!!) and you have a writing frenzy. I mean, shit, I've actually got the nerve to try my first steamy het sex scene -- full penetration plus all the mushy lead-in stuff. Gah. Anyways, you've been warned. If this isn't your thing, skip past the first half of this chapter. Huh, even if it isn't your thing, you could always read to critique. 

Anyways, without further babble from the tipsy redhead...

~ * ~

**Chapter 36: Scenes from the Bizarre**

"You do realize, I hope, that this makes us practically bonded, right?"

Draco's eyes lost focus for several breaths, then he broke out into a true, absolutely beautiful smile.

"So it does! How does it feel to be Mrs. Draco Malfoy?"

A short bark of laughter followed his question. Hermione gave him a pinch, then corrected his assumption, "I don't know... How does it feel to be Mr. Granger-Malfoy?"

He glared. She saw his glare and raised it a poke. He had to grin -- yes, this witch would keep him on his toes for the rest of their lives. "So long as you don't expect me to be a house-husband, I have no problem with calling myself Humphrey Knockknees, my dearest Mia."

Blushing at the near romance in his tone, Hermione laid her head back on his chest. "Let's decide to discuss name changes later, alright? This is just a little bit... sudden."

"Second thoughts?" He didn't want to know, but had to ask. "It's not too late, I'm sure. We can keep it light, friends with benefits, if you want. Regardless of their blessings, the gods don't write it in stone or anything."

She shut him up the most expedient way. A deep, toe-curling kiss that left him breathless, almost forgetting his own name. When they parted once more, she thumped him.

"Don't be silly, ferret-face. I wasn't questioning our decision, or the gods' part in this. A comment on the speed of our relationship's alteration from malicious rivalry to benign, then into tentative romance does _not_ mean that I wanted to walk away." She pulled out of his arms, sitting up against the wall and tugging his head into her lap. From that position, Hermione's fingers threaded into his hair, drawing a satisfied purr from her blond lover. More softly, she continued, "Ever since I began looking at boys with more interest than study companions, I've wished for the sort of passion that one reads about in those cheap paperback stories. It was hard enough to find someone on the same level as me for brains, or even for _smarts_... but I'd honestly given up on finding the fire that seems to come so effortlessly between us. Give it up now, after we've discovered how well-suited we are? Draco Malfoy, you are not nearly as dense as all that!"

The release of tension left him in a fit of giggles, almost causing him to choke before he rolled onto his side. "Oh thank Merlin! I was dreading so very much having to keep you chained in the manor's dungeons until you agreed."

Nose in the air, Hermione sniffed disdainfully. "As if you could. May I remind you that we are perfectly matched? You would as likely find yourself chained right beside me, to forever be harried by your seriously peaved spouse."

Draco sat up, placing himself beside his witch and taking her hands between his. "Does that mean you will marry me, Mia?" He asked hopefully, then caught himself and backpedalled, "Not before we graduate, naturally. And you might want to apprentice, or go on to university, or something..."

"Draco, would you calm down? I understood just fine the first time." She grinned at him. They really were perfect for each other. Not that they wouldn't argue and fight about some things, but where else would they find a truly compelling debate? "And yes, I will agree to marry you. Time and place to be discussed, probably when we talk about names, hmm?"

In a fit that would thoroughly shame his ancestors, the Slytherin Prince threw back his head and whooped loudly, mentally praising the gods for giving him the courage to make his dreams come to fruition.

~ * ~

The triad found it an... interesting experience trying to shower together in the close confines of the safehouse's single shower stall. Even with magic, there was only so much alteration to be done before the structural integrity of the muggle-built home became unstable. Still, they had a good time groping and slipping against each other's wet, naked skin.

Harry also discovered that, while masturbation was a fine thing, holding another man's prick in his hand and squeezing til it erupted, well, that was an entirely different matter. Having such power over these two dark wizards, making them shudder and moan, with only the use of his inexperienced hands was a heady thing indeed. Of course, the fact that he nearly brought himself off just by watching their faces while he wanked them was a slight drawback... not that they seemed to mind. Severus felt it a high complement, while Lucius simply kissed him til he became half-hard again.

The blond left his lovers to complete their ablutions -- and whatever else Severus had in mind for Harry's most recent arousal. He smirked as he chose his most subdued outfit, a simple waistcoat and trous in dark blue wool, with the softest sky blue, brushed cotton shirt to offset. He decided against the matching greatcoat, considering the outside temperature, and located a brocade cloak done up in blues and greys. Nothing near his standard attire, which was perfect for this evening's subterfuge.

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall had a keen eye, a sharp ear, and an elephant's memory. In order to fool the catty witch, Lucius would have to portray himself perfectly from the beginning of their meeting. An upper-middle class gentleman, perhaps... His education demanded at least that much acknowledgment. Hmm... where was Beauxbatons located again? The south of France, if he remembered correctly. Which meant _shudder_ that he must hale from the northern parts. Ah well, it couldn't be helped. At least he had a fair working knowledge of the area, thanks to his family's holdings. Never let it be said that Lord Lucius Malfoy took no interest in his investments. Hmph!

Such thoughts distracted him over the course of getting dressed, charming his hair into a shorter style and light brown color, and using a low level hex to alter his facial features into something less than perfect. His nose appeared to have been broken at some point, hooking toward the right just a bit. His cheekbones lowered as well, and his eyebrows filled out with _cringe_ slightly curled hairs. Looking into the mirror, Lucius saw man of fairly average appearance, of old money but on limited means, cultured but lacking the wherewithall to pull off a truly haughty demeanor.

He sneered at the image, and almost fell over at the comical effect it had. Without knowing who to look for, only his closest companions would begin to suspect his true identity.

Perfect.

No matter how repugnant.

~ * ~

Harry's eyes had yet to refocus after Lucius left the stall. Almost before the bathroom door closed behind the blond, Severus attacked. His lips latched onto Harry's neck, just below the jawline nearest his left ear. From the loud moans, he didn't feel that the teen was terribly upset by his chosen method of torture.

"Oh sweet Merlin, Severusssss," were Harry's last coherent words before he became a mass of writhing babble.

Severus continued to suck and nibble that one spot until a large purple mark appeared. Not that he was an inherently possessive man... _snort_ but there was something infinitely satisfying about his lover wearing his mark. He was fairly certain that no one else had ever marked the lad before, which only made his statement of ownership more thrilling. Yet another simple pleasure in which he had been unable to indulge with Lucius. _Until now... That may change with our altered circumstances. Hmm, I'll just have to see how he reacts, once we are all home tonight._

If the Gryffindor had previously entertained concerns about his entanglement with either Slytherin, such petty worries were quickly washed down the drain. Along with his sanity, his focus, and his very grip on reality. He was moments away from begging to be taken, filled with his so very passionate lover, when a distant bellow interrupted the delicious lust-haze in which he was wrapped. His eyes opened just as Severus raised his head; they shared a questioning glance and confirmed that both had heard the same noise. With a flick of his wrist, Severus had the water turned off and both of them in robes, leaving Harry to unlock the door and drop the silencing charms. They stepped out into the hall at a quick pace, nearly colliding with a much-changed Lucius.

"Which way?" Harry asked, his wand gripped securely in his right hand. Lucius looked both up and down the hall, but could not discern which direction they should search. Just as Severus was ready to cast a series of detection spells, another shout echoed, more distinctly than the first... from the bedroom directly across the hall. All three wizards rolled their eyes and relaxed their stances from battle ready down to moderately annoyed.

"Yeah, uh... guess we should find out if one of them's killed the other, right?" Harry looked less than eager to be the volunteer for that mission, but at his lovers' expressions, it was obvious that they expected him to stick his head in the lion's den. _Or snake's pit... Actually, with a Gryf/Slyth match, what would their nest be called?_ Hardly the time for such inane questions, he shook his head and knocked on the door.

A scramble of shuffling bodies could easily be heard, along with giggles and the sounds of lips smacking. Lucius snorted, flicked his hair over his shoulder, and left the brunets to chastise their charges. Shaking his head, Severus opted to follow his old friend -- and maybe get a hand with his mostly erect problem. Why waste a perfectly serviceable hard-on?

Which left the Boy-Who-May-Not-Live-Long-After-Interrupting-'Mione's-Fun to intrude on the new couple's privacy. He cringed, scowling as he cursed the decidedly un-brave tactics of his lovers. Before he could get very far in his rather inventive invectives, the bedroom door opened to disclose his best friend (looking more rumpled than their last three-day marathon pre-finals session prior to the OWLs) and a frightfully mussed blond. Harry knew better, honestly, but he couldn't contain the snickers brought forth by their obviously freshly snogged appearance.

"We _chuckle_ heard shouts and _snort_ something that _snicker_ sounded like _choked cough_ someone in pain _gasp_ but really, it's nothing, now that I can _snort_ tell you're both _cackle_ perfectly fine." He leant against the door frame and held his stomach, nearly doubled over in mirth. The twin displays of "I am NOT amused" certainly didn't help him regain his calm, but Harry was having too much fun. Especially after the hard time each of his friends had given him over recent events.

Hermione scowled at her closest -- and soon to be deadest -- friend. "Really, one would think a person who gets caught out as often as you-"

"Mia, it's no use," her boyfriend interrupted. "Let the poor thing have his fun. It's not as if _he_ can boast at having snagged the most beautiful, most intelligent, and definitely the most devious witch for his intended." Draco cuddled up against the young woman's back, securing her against his firm body with both arms around her waist. He nuzzled into her neck, making sure to speak just loud enough for their observer to hear, "They'll have to be told sooner or later anyway, hmm? My father and godfather will have arrangements to make, as will your best friend. You'll want to ask Harry to stand up for you, won't you?"

The bristling witch melted at her love's words, nodding absently as she tilted her head to the side for more of his tender ministrations. She only vaguely noticed Harry's jaw drop as the light of comprehension flared in his eyes.

"Yes Harry, we're going to be bonded. Of course, no date's been set as yet. There's still Seventh Year, and NEWTs of course... Oooh!" Her looming lecture was derailed by strong lips sucking her earlobe into a hot mouth. 

Whatever his previous reservations about the younger Malfoy's interest in his best friend, Harry couldn't help but feel they were well-suited. If nothing else, Draco seemed to have a knack for cutting 'Mione's speeches short. Then he backtracked a few breaths, replayed the newest information, and his eyes widened to houseelf proportions.

"You're getting married?! Wow, talk about sudden!" He bounced forward, received a growl from the territorial blond, and settled on his toes for a few good springs. Suspicion niggled its way through the excitement, however, and he blurted out, "Hold on, you haven't gotten her pregnant, have you Malfoy? I'll have your bollocks for that!"

Rather than letting the Golden Boy have his way with her fiance`, Hermione grabbed Harry's quickly drawn wand and pushed it to one side. "Don't be ridiculous, Harry James Potter! We haven't gone far enough for that to happen. Yet! Not that it's any concern of yours either, what with the way you've been carrying on with your two sugar daddies. What I do and with whom is _my_ decision to make, not _yours_ , and I'll thank you to kindly not threaten the future father of my far-future children." A heartening shiver of joy ran through the body behind her, egging her to continue the rant. "Honestly, I'm quite looking forward to exploring the body parts you've just threatened, and since they now belong to _me_ , I'll thank you to keep your wand in your pants, or in whichever of your lovers is bent over at the time, instead of worrying about _my_ toys!"

She took a deep breath to continue, but found her mouth occupied by a very aroused Slytherin's tongue. Abandoning all sense of decorum, Hermione threw her arms around Draco's neck and molded her body to his, forcing every curve and plane to slither against his hard muscles... and harder erection. Regardless of Harry's concerns, she had better things to do than finish dressing him down -- she had a certain blond to do, and it was beyond time for her to take a full inventory of her new acquisition.

Harry watched, panting and glassy-eyed, as his level headed best friend practically climbed atop their long-time rival in an attempt to consume Draco Bloody Malfoy's tonsils. Right there in the hall. And then the couple practically had sex in front of him, with their clothes still on (mostly). Finally, before his heart decided if it was going to race or stop altogether, they stumbled back into the bedroom, slammed the door, and loudly threw up numerous locking and privacy spells. He could only guess that silencing spells went up as well. Part of him was beyond grateful for that... while another part, Harry was ashamed to admit even to himself, mourned not being able to at least hear the erotic scenes playing out behind the closed door.

Shuffling back to the other bedroom, he couldn't quite resolve his feelings about this most recent turn of events. On the one hand, he was absolutely thrilled that his best beloved friend had finally found someone to appreciate her charms, smarts, and loving nature. On the other... it was Draco Malfoy! Sure, the little ferret had proven himself to be other than the image of pureblood superiority, but after six years of daily altercations it was more than a little difficult to reconcile this new, easy going and fun person to the slimy, cold and calloused arse from school. _Hermione can take care of herself, remember? She's always been pretty good at knowing when someone was lying to her, or trying to use her. If she says he's on the level, then I just need to have faith in her._ The concept didn't settle well, but Harry knew it was what he'd have to do, if he wanted to keep her friendship. _Besides, she can whallop him good if he steps out of line! And I'll be there to watch it..._ His inner caveman cackled at the thought, protective and maliciously giddy over the idea of the blond being on the receiving end of his near-sister's ire.

As he opened his bedroom door, Harry couldn't keep the wicked grin off his face.

Which was the first thing his lovers saw as they separated from a heated kiss of their own.

Allowing the Neanderthal out just a bit, Harry growled as he slunk toward his wizards, pushing in between them to steal hard kisses from each. Lucius purred deep in his throat as his lips were taken, teased and nipped, then moaned happily as he watched Severus get the same treatment. Whatever had caused their young lover to release this bout of primal passion, he was hardly going to complain. Even if it made him late for his meeting at Hogwarts.

With a wave of his hand, Harry had all three of them stripped bare, their clothes neatly laid out across a chair. His patience was a thread away from non-existent -- he needed them _**now!**_ Pushing Severus back onto the bed, he crawled atop the miles of pale flesh, slithering deliciously against the passion-warmed skin of his dark lover. A look over his shoulder beckoned Lucius to join them. The senior Malfoy took three long strides to reach his lovers, quickly dispelling his glamours along the way. 

"Luc, I want to be inside you," Harry panted, even as his mouth mapped a line down Severus' stomach toward his straining prick. 

The blond wasted no time in quickly casting the trio of preparation spells and crawling across his old friend's body. Face to cock, he nudged the young man's head out of the way and took over the tongue bath of Severus' erection. Satisfied that his lovers were comfortably placed, Harry moved behind the blond and gave him a quick poke with three fingers -- he loved the way Luc moaned around his mouthful -- before pushing past the tight ring of his arse.

Harry set up a brisk pace, barely giving his lover the chance to relax around the intrusion of his throbbing dick. With eyes closed to savor the numerous physical delights, he kept himself from becoming distracted by the arch of Luc's back, the dipping of his head from the expert blowjob he was giving to Severus... 

Who, apparently, had decided that Harry needed more stimulation.

Two slick fingers brushed across his entrance, drawing a groan from the teen, making his pace falter. Sev smiled around Lucius' cock and alternated teasing swipes with gentle pressure against the virgin ring. It wouldn't matter to either of the older wizards who would get first go at their boy's bum... so long as the event took place. Soon. Thanks to twenty plus years of practice, Luc knew exactly how to send him over the edge in short order -- but Severus wanted to take his lovers with him into ecstacy. He wiggled one finger up inside Harry's arse and curled it _just so_ , then used his other hand to squeeze Lucius' bollocks. Twin shouts of surprised pleasure caused the most wonderful ripple of shudders through the trio, and they cascaded into orgasm one after the other.

Sweaty, sated, and sleepy, Harry barely remembered to toss a "cleaned and refreshed" charm across them all before he passed out.

A very pleased blond smirked at his friend. "Well Sev, it would seem that Harry needs little coaching in the arts of pleasing his lovers. I daresay that sitting down for tea with the esteemed Headmistress might be a bit... taxing. Do remind me to place a cushioning charm on my trousers, won't you?"

Severus grinned and nodded. He would need to do much the same, after this morning's play. "Will you need assistance in recasting your glamours? Your choice in appearance was quite good, I must say. If I hadn't known who to expect, it might have taken me some time to guess the identity of the somewhat plain wizard getting dressed in my bedroom." His body arced in a deep stretch, then Severus was on his feet, moving to dress and aid his friend in repairing his new persona.

"Sev..." Lucius began, and only years of intimate knowledge gave Severus a clue as to the level of trepidation in the blond's tone, "do be careful tonight. McGonagall might get cross with me and call for the Aurors, but you... your position is so much more perilous." He abandoned his task of buttoned his waistcoat and reached for the brunet. "Don't make me lose you, after we've finally the means to be together."

Stained fingers stroked through silver hair, offering silent comfort. "Luc, I shall be as cautious as ever. Moreso now that there is truly a reason for me to come home." The Potions Master felt his face heat with a slight blush, cursing himself for showing how much he felt for the pureblood. However loquacious he might be, Severus Snape had never given in to fluffy romantic prose, nor would he stoop to doing so at this point.

Lucius stepped directly in front of his recalcitrant love. It came as no surprise to him that Severus had a difficult time in expressing his more gentle emotions. Placing a series of soft kisses across tightly closed lips, the blond cursed himself for being so harsh, so reluctant to defy his family's dictates. The years of playing "dirty little secret" had left Severus a bruised shell of his formerly passionate self. Although lately, he was seeing more of the young man he'd fallen so deeply in love with. _It would seem that Harry has done more than worm his way into our bed. The young man has opened Severus' heart once again, and for that I will forever be grateful. Perhaps now I might find the chance to make amends for the foolish mistakes of my youth._

~ * ~

**Chapter 37: I Am Caveman, Hear Me Grunt**

Before the door had been secured. 

Before their bodies found the edge of the bed. 

Before even their lips could touch in more satisfying contact than the briefest brushes... 

Draco felt certain that he would burst into flames long before he had his fill of this most wonderful witch in his arms. Her bountiful curls wrapped around his right hand, keeping it where it most wanted to be -- caught in place, holding the back of her head while his mouth memorized the sweet flavors of her tongue. His other hand had less pure pursuits, quite happy to discover the curves of her hips (so full, so womanly), the delicious dip at the center of her lower back, the swell of her rounded buttocks. If he was destined to spend the rest of his natural days with such a creature of divinity, he would gladly do his best to shower her with every bit of attention the goddess in his arms deserved.

How she had ever gotten so lucky, she'd never know. But Hermione refused to question the instinctive good fortune presented to her. The Ice Prince himself, melting into a puddle of romantic goo at her touch... it was a heady experience. For all his previous conquests, Draco was keeping to rather tame groping. She, however, was pure Gryffindor : courage and bravery. Her hands smoothed over the solid muscles of his chest, wrapped around his shoulders and down his back. She purred happily at the lovely sculpture of masculine beauty on offer for her pleasure. His waist was trim, his belly gently ribbed with from years of Quidditch, his hips lean, and his arse a double-handful of hard, clenching muscle. The one area she had yet to fully investigate was between his legs. A fact she was determined to rectify.

Falling back onto the bed, Hermione yelped as her head hit the wall. _Now this just won't do!_ Her first time with her fiance` would not be an awkward fumble on a twin size bed. She fumbled for a wand, coming up with Draco's and shrugging, pointed it at the mattress and cast an engorgement charm. While her lover's mouth was still open in shock, she took advantage and quickly sucked his tongue into her mouth, mimicking what she expected to happen in the near future. Smooth thrust in, languid lapping of his moist interior, lazy retreat, only to start over again. A good hard shag was all fine and well, but her first time with Draco Malfoy was going to last as long as humanly possible.

With his stunning silver looks and obvious wealthy upbringing, Draco had never wanted for bedpartners. He had first smooth-talked his way into a sixth form's bed at the tender age of twelve, and had rarely gone to bed unsatisfied since. And yet never, in the five years since his first time, had he been as burningly aroused as with his darling Mia. She held his heart in her slender hands, her brilliant mind challenged his own more than any other... and having seen her ample charms close up, he could find no fault with her body. The combination was a powerful aphrodisiac. Power, cunning, beauty, and the intelligence to utilize the whole package to its fullest. 

Her close encounter with the wall had lowered the flames for him just a bit, but she simply moved on, picking up his wand (whom no other person but him could effectively use!) and enlarging his bed into a happy playground for them. Honestly, he was fairly sure that she'd done it without saying the incantation, making her more adept at wordless magic than he'd thought. Ah, another reason to pant after the muggle-born, as if he needed more ammunition.

Draco stretched out fully along the length of the bed, arching himself into her full breasts and wrapping his ankles around her lower legs. As his arms came down, he took great pleasure in trapping the willing witch against him for a slower kiss. She wanted to be thoroughly seduced? He could accommodate his lady, quite happily. As a matter of fact, he knew one way to a dedicated bibliophile's heart...

"My beloved Mia," he whispered against her cheek, his hands stroking the heated skin of her back, "you are everything I've ever hoped of finding. Uncommon beauty, incomparable wits, and passion to meet -- maybe exceed -- my own." His fingers lightly trailed down to the waist of her shorts, then farther to tease beneath the material at her thighs. "Where would you like to begin, my lady? Shall I memorize your gorgeous body with my tongue?" Draco's lips parted enough to flick the appendage across her earlobe, earning a delighted gasp. "Or perhaps you'd prefer my hands, learning every inch of skin on offer..." Once again, his fingers drew her attention -- slipping up her shorts legs to barely nudge the damp material of her panties. "Someday soon, I would like to tie you to the bed with silk scarves, blindfold you, and spend hours doing nothing but worshiping your perfection." His hips suddenly pushed up against her stomach, bringing moans from them both. "But not today, darling Mia. Today is to seal our fate, our blessed union. There will be time for all other pleasures in our future, but this first should be simply us."

Shivers raced across her flesh, bringing goosebumps along the way. Hermione should've guessed that the cunning Slytherin would use words to heighten her arousal -- not that it needed assistance, but she definitely appreciated the effort. Extricating herself from the tangle of their limbs, she popped the clasp of her bra, letting her breasts fall out into his hands. Another flick had the snap of her shorts released, where his fingers immediately began pushing them down. Not to be outdone, she unbuttoned his jeans as well, gleefully exploring the pale trail of hair leading down from his navel.

With so many interesting areas to investigate, Draco mentally debated where to begin. A not-so-subtle rocking against his groin showed exactly where his lover wished his attention to be. He grinned, reached up for a quick kiss, and helped Hermione shift her weight so he could slide her shorts off. His first glimpse of lacy red knickers encouraged a burst of pre-come to dampen his jeans.

"Like them?" Hermione's voice was gravelly with passion, "I'd think you might prefer to see what's beneath."

The reaction she'd been asking for was sweet music to her ears : Draco Malfoy growling like a primitive Stone Age man, throwing her down to the bed to rip the tiny bit of lace from his target. He seemed incapable of actual speech, as he took in her nipped waist, flaring hips and warm thighs. _Definitely not a tit-man, is he? Ah well, such is my burden,_ she sighed happily to herself. Reaching both hands up to grasp the headboard, Hermione assumed the position of complete submission -- all she lacked was the silk scarves he'd mentioned only minutes before. 

Dark grey eyes toured the expanse of her trembling body, settling briefly on the puckered nipples of her breasts before focusing on her parted lips. He leaned down to taste her mouth once more, then saw how her hands were placed. Cro-Magnon Malfoy reclaimed his brain in a heartbeat, and before his next intelligent thought, his pants hit the floor, his legs pushed their way between hers, and his aching cock lay nestled in her damp curls.

"Damn it, Mia, I'm trying to go slow here, and you keep pushing buttons I wasn't aware of having!" He cried in frustration. "At least let me try to last more than half an hour, alright?"

Impishly grinning, Hermione lifted to smack a quick peck to his chin. "There's nothing saying that we have to stop after the first time, is there?" Years of practice (via observation of her best friends more than by practical application) had taught the bright witch how to fake an innocent look to rival any toddler's. _And that's all it should take..._ She permitted her inner lioness a self-satisfied grumble even as her lover pushed himself inside.

Hot, tight, quivering in waves... His wondrous lady's body was made to fit only him. Draco didn't fool himself into thinking that he was her first lover, not if he recalled some of her previous comments, but he could make certain to be her best and last. Slowly, carefully, he inched his way between her outer lips, taking care to brush across her sensitized clit as much as possible. Only after his entire length was embedded in her heavenly depths did he feel steady enough to bring his hands down to her hips, lifting her onto his lap for deeper penetration. They moaned together at the glorious feeling of completion --Draco's eyes were nearly as dark as his lovely lady's by this point, so little of the actual color remained due to the desire he felt just being in the same room with Hermione. He was forced to take several deep, cleansing breaths to stall an embarrassing prematurity. It would be unforgivable to climax before his Mia.

Each short thrust into her willing body brought Hermione closer to orgasm. She had never experienced such a quick culmination of pleasure before, not even by her own hands. _Forget "long and slow"! This is going to be over before we really begin. Gods, it feels like someone hooked me up to an auto battery, I'm so tightly wired, tingling down to my toes._ She refused to recall his earlier promises of hours of torment, knowing that to do so would call the end of her delicious build-up. Still, wasn't he taking too long to begin? A short buck of her hips drew his attention back to her face, both of their grins melting into something much sweeter, softer.

Draco stroked a renegade curl away from her face, then locked eyes as his expression grew quite serious. "Mia, I am going to fall hopelessly in love with you someday soon. If that's alright with you."

She swallowed against her suddenly dry throat. "An acceptable proposition, sir. I think I shall join you in that endeavor."

When their mouths came together next, it was with a tender reverence, each relaying the depth of their regard for one another. Hermione's hands left the headboard, all playfulness gone, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders as her legs parted to cradle his waist. Draco slipped his hands beneath her back and bum, lifting her bodily off the bed. He began to rock gently into her, spreading her sweet juices along the length of his prick and over both sets of thighs. The resulting moisture provoked soft smacking sounds each time their groins connected, offering a rhythmic beat to the sensual soundtrack of their moans.

As her lover lifted her prone body up onto his lap, Hermione's more basic self shivered at the show of physical prowess. True, he would never be a Mr Universe... but he was certainly more powerful in both magic and muscle than the vast majority of their peers. Draco released her hips, letting gravity drop her body more solidly onto his cock, distracting her mental debate once more. His pubic hair crinkled lightly against her clit, forcing her up to the next left before orgasm -- the urgent need for _more_ and _harder_ and _faster_ and _**now**_!

"Gods, Dray, please..." she barely needed to say the words before his hands returned to her hips, lifting and dropping her in increasingly fast movements. "Oh yes, perfect... love!" Electric tingles began at her core, spreading rapidly out to the tips of her fingers and toes -- even the outer ridge of her ears felt it! She cried a triumphant shout up at the ceiling as her body went limp in his arms.

His clenched teeth and blank face were the only outward indications that Draco Malfoy's concentration was in full force. He truly did not want their lovemaking to be over, even if they had numerous opportunities before dawn to go again. But the pulsing squeeze of her puss around his over-sensitized hard-on refused to let him draw out the experience, and with another dozen thrusts he filled Hermione with obscene amounts of semen. Without letting himself slip out of his favorite new home, Draco laid them both out and propped up on his arms to gently kiss his beloved.

And froze.

"'Mione," he had to ask the question, no matter how foolish it made them both seem for not having thought of it before, "Mia... are you with me, love?"

Floating up from her delicious post-orgasmic daze, Hermione heard her name on her marvelous mate's lips and forced her eyes open. "Mmm, what's wrong, sweetheart?"

_Sweetheart? Well, that's not a name I've been called before. And coming from my Mia, I might just be able to get used to it._ Distraction, not now! "Lovely, now's probably not the best time to ask, and I'm terribly sorry not to have thought of it before, but... are we... y'know... safe?"

It took a moment for her brain to come back online, for the question to actually make sense. Then she giggled, kissed his nose, and snuggled back into his chest. "Oh silly, of course we are. My mum insisted on long-term protection, since I'm away at boarding school so much of the year. I always told her that it wasn't necessary, but she said, 'Dearest, one day you will meet a young man who will knock your knickers clean off your bum, bend you over a conveniently flat surface, and make you forget the need for birth control. Not that I don't want grandchildren someday, but please not until you've graduated, hmm?' Naturally I argued, but she was only trying to protect me. Rather prophetic about it, my mum."

Draco smiled at his lady love even as he felt his depleted member slip from her juicy lips. He turned them so her head was across his chest, wrapped his arms around her, and quietly agreed, "That was good thinking, if a bit unorthodox. I don't know many parents who can accept that their children will eventually become sexually active without laying down unreasonable rules."

"Yes, Mum's pretty special about things like that," she sleepily agreed.

He stopped talking and let Hermione doze off, petting her hair in a soothing motion. His future mother-in-law was a bright one, he fully admitted, but a tiny part of him was disappointed as well. _Not that our last year at Hogwarts would be the right time to start a family... but damn it, part of me wants that._

~ * ~

After the first few minutes, Harry had to reinforce his friends' silencing charms. He was actually quite impressed that they'd managed to cause enough racket to break through a double charm like that, not that he needed to listen in on their fun. Especially not with Sev and Luc out of the house.

Trying to ignore his increasing frustration, he stormed into the study and picked up a random book. _The Art of Enchantment_ , such a simple title, looked to be one of the few magical tomes that wasn't a load of fluffy pureblood propaganda, and he settled down into one of the armchairs to keep himself occupied while everyone else was away on business or... _cough_ otherwise occupied.

~ * ~

Entering Hogwarts was uneventful enough. He knew the route by heart, of course, and encountered no one other than a few ghosts on his way to the Headmistress' tower office. Not a one of them saw through his glamours, for which he breathed a sigh of relief. Inwardly, of course -- a Malfoy did not show discomfort in the presence of anyone but his trusted loved ones. _And since most of my ancestors refused to accept love from their spouses and children, that makes me unique. Naturally._ His involuntary smirk was the one clue to his true identity, but with not even a portrait within view to witness the slip, his disguise held true.

The guardian gargoyle's eyes glowed in acknowledgment of his presence, and soon the staircase materialized for his use. Lucius had never been quite as adept at Occlumency as his old friend, but he'd had many years of practice in keeping his mind free of incriminating thoughts under the most brutal Leglimens - Voldemort himself. No one would learn a thing from his thoughts unless he chose to let them. With that dose of personal encouragement, he opened the door and stepped inside to greet the Scottish harridan.

~ * ~

Severus left the safehouse at roughly the same time as Lucius. He had need of a quick trip to Spinner's End for some of the "novelty" potions he'd created as an apprentice -- they were little more than schoolboy pranks, really, but the effects were just what was needed. Unlocking the series of charms (some bordering on Dark, others tied to his blood) that kept his potions laboratory safe from prying Ministry eyes, he quickly located the Disillusioned cabinet holding his less useful potions.

The first vial held a glittering fluorescent pink potion. Its intended use was to give the drinker a horrible case of acne, oily hair and skin, and make them quite clumsy. When used on a teenager, the effects were rather... mind boggling, and gratifying as well. To see the tormentors of his school years undergoing his own personal hell was morally satisfying.

A second vial, differing only in that it was murky orange rather than pink, guaranteed the recipient to endure dramatic mood swings, increased paranoia, and a terribly misleading sense of self-worth. Of all his early experiments, this one came closest to Dark Arts due to its mind-altering effects. Where the lurid pink draught would induce physical discomfort and outward blemishes for a few weeks, whomever drank the orange potion would see up to six months of personality changes. Of course, he had a milder variety to use as needed these days, but the Dark Lord was hardly of normal anatomy anymore. The stronger dosage would also be more entertaining.

His third selection was an odd one. Severus honestly couldn't recall why he'd started work on it... _Although, it could have been after that David Bowie concert in London. I scarcely remember the rest of that month._ When turned one way, the light shone through clearly, with an opalescent sheen. Switch hands or angles of the light, and it appeared black as tar and twice as thick. The best part -- and the aspect most puzzling on reflection -- was that this potion would not begin to take effect until after the giver spoke a keyword. They needn't be on the same continent as the drinker! For some reason, distance had no merit. Some twenty years after that odd fortnight, Severus still could not replicate the process of creating a similar trigger in other potions. Frustrating, to be sure, but it did give him the benefit of being conveniently absent before the effect took hold.

_Harry wanted to give him "wet dreams of the most disturbing kind"? How fortuitous that I happened to have created such a potion... before he was even born. Dear gods, I do not believe in coincidences this convenient in nature. May you keep your divine pranksters far from me and mine, and let your kindest wishes keep my path safe._ His mother's long-forgotten prayer of warding came clearly to mind, and he let the words reassure him as he reset the wards on his lab.

_Set of new "recently uncovered ancient" spells, ready. First three potions, in hand. Phantomed cunning from Luc and courage from Harry... the only thing keeping me from losing my mind._ Severus knew it was a good plan, however frivolous parts of it might seem. That did not distract him from the nervous worry inherent in any direct assault on Lord Voldemort. Even the most stalwart muggle superhero would think twice about attacking a being as evil as he. _If I'm caught, there won't be enough left of me to identify the remains. The solution? Don't get caught, Sev!_


End file.
